Tales From the Russell Hotel
by Paradox Predator
Summary: My collection of CATS short stories and one-shots. What goes on in the Yard on a daily basis? When did the Jellicles realize Macavity really was that evil? Updates on Wednesdays. Rated T just in case. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The estate of T.S. Eliot owns 'Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats' and Andrew Lloyd Webber and the Really Useful Group own 'CATS'. I am neither. That's it. That's the only disclaimer that I'm doing for this series.**

And Not Long Ago…

By

Paradox Predator

"_And not long ago, this remarkable Cat produced _seven kittens _right out of a hat!"_

_~Mr. Mistoffelees, by T.S. Eliot._

…

Quaxo Mistoffelees entered the Junkyard (more commonly known as simply the 'Yard'), and looked about. His sister, Victoria, had been missing since midmorning and his Uncle Bustopher was getting worried. So Quaxo had sallied forth from his home in St. James' Street to find Victoria.

However, now that he was at the Yard, which was arguably the most probable place to find his sister, Quaxo couldn't help but notice that it was much too quiet for the time of day. Normally at this hour, the kittens would be out playing, but as Quaxo jumped on the boot of the TSE 1 car, the only kittens he could see were Pettipaws, Wiscus, Sillabub and Bill Bailey.

Doing a count in his head, Quaxo realized that meant that six kittens were missing- Electra, Etcetera, Jemima, Pouncival, Carbucketty and Tumblebrutus. Seven kittens if you counted Victoria.

"Hey guys," he called to the group as he jumped down from the car. "Have you seen Vicky anywhere?"

"No," Wiscus answered with a nervous look on his face. "We haven't seen her all day."

"We haven't seen most of the others all day," Bill added. "A bunch of the other kittens disappeared. Munkustrap keeps sending patrols out to look for them, but they haven't had any luck yet."

"Yeah," Pettipaws joined in, flicking the end of her tail back and forth. "The only adults that are staying in the yard are Bombalurina, Demeter, Munkustrap of course, Pushdragon, Jenny and Jelly, and-"

"Tugger!" yowled Sillabub as _the _Rum Tum Tugger entered the Yard. His mane was drooping and he looked worried. Seeing Quaxo, he sauntered over looking as though he wanted to run but was worried about what that would do to his image.

Taking Quaxo's paw, he led him aside. "Hey, Misto-"

"Tugger," Quaxo interrupted. "It's either Quaxo, or _Mister _Mistoffelees. Not Misto. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"At least once more," the Tugger smirked, and then his smile dropped. "Listen, Quaxo, I know that I'm supposed to be a heartless player and all, but those Princesses in my fan-club- I really do care about them, especially Cettie, the poor thing."

Quaxo nodded. It was common knowledge that Etcetera, or Cettie, had some problems. It was the way she obsessed over Tugger, the way she always acted every day- as though she was seeing everything for the first time. She was a very naïve young Jellicle, and all the others always watched her. Except for today, apparently.

"So, why are you talking to me?" Quaxo asked. "Munkustrap's doing everything he can, from what I hear." He gestured back towards the four kittens.

"Yeah, well, Deme thinks that ol' Maccy might have them," Tugger sighed, "and at this point, I'm starting to believe her about how bad that seedy ol' blaggard really is. She says that he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of deprav-"

"I get it, Tugger," Quaxo interrupted. "He's a bad guy. I still don't see what this has to do with me."

"Well you know," Tugger mewed. "You have all of the…" he waved his paws dramatically.

"Magic?" Quaxo deadpanned.

"Exactimundo!" agreed Tugger. "You got the power in your paws! Come on, Misto- er, _Mister _Mistoffelees! Don't you want to try?"

Quaxo sighed. He really wasn't that good at magic yet, and he was starting to regret telling the Rum Tum Tugger about it at all. It had started out with him asking Tugger to sit in on a few practice sessions for safety. It probably would have been more efficient to ask Coricopat and Tantomile for help with magic, but the two grimalkins really freaked him out.

At any rate, once the Tugger had realized that Quaxo had magic, he had started treating him like the Everlasting Cat's gift to Maine Coons that couldn't find…whatever it was that Tugger had lost at the moment. Sometimes Quaxo could find it, sometimes he couldn't, and every now and then, the object would come back twisted and smoking. Quaxo blanched at the thought.

"I don't know, Tugger," he said, thoughtfully. "What if one of them gets hurt in the process? Basements, what if my _sister _gets hurt? Uncle Bustopher would have kittens!"

"Bustopher Jones can't have kittens," the Tugger deadpanned. "He's a Tom."

"I know that!" scowled Quaxo, "I just… I lost my train of thought. Thank you, Tugger. Why does this always happen around you?"

"My good looks make you forget anything else."

"Not likely. Anyway, what good looks?"

The Tugger glared at Quaxo for a few seconds, and then went back to pleading mode. "So, will you do it?"

Quaxo sighed. "Fine, I'll try."

"Yes! Thanks, Quaxo! You won't regret this."

Quaxo sighed. He really hoped he wouldn't. If anything happened to Vicky, he would never forgive himself.

"I'm sure I won't," is what he said, his fur starting to glow. "Also, I'm working now. Call me Mr. Mistoffelees."

…

A few minutes later, Wiscus, Pettipaws and Bill had collected the top hat that Mr. Mistoffelees' uncle sat on during the Jellicle Ball (Sillabub had been too busy fawning over the Tugger). While the kittens had been getting the hat, Mistoffelees and Tugger had collected seven objects that were each roughly the size of a kitten.

"What did you say this was called again?" Wiscus asked.

"Substitutional conjuration," answered Mr. Mistoffelees. "It's easier than doing a straight conjuration because I'm replacing the kittens with objects that are somewhat like them."

Wiscus nodded deeply to show that he understood (he didn't).

Mistoffelees sighed. "Listen, you guys. My magic is a secret right now. If I do this right, when the kittens come out of the hat, they'll be slightly dazed and won't remember how they got home. Do you promise you won't tell them?"

The Tugger nodded, so Sillabub followed his lead. Wiscus and Pettipaws looked at each other before swearing on their tails not to tell about Mistoffelees' magic. Bill Bailey quickly added his oath, eager to bring his brothers home.

"Alright, then," Mistoffelees mewled. "Let's do this." He picked up the first object, a broken toy dart-gun, and dropped it in the hat. Picking up a piece of cloth, he covered the opening.

"Hey, presto, and away we go!" he yowled, pulling the cloth from the hat and revealing Victoria nestled inside. The other kittens quickly bundled her off to find out how much she remembered and make up a story as to how she got home.

Mr. Mistoffelees repeated the action six more times, growing more confident every time he pulled the cloth from the hat and revealed a sleeping kitten inside. Next to him, Tugger kept chanting something.

"What are you saying?" Mistoffelees asked as he helped Carbucketty out of the hat.

The Tugger flushed slightly at being caught. Not that he would have admitted it if you had remarked on it. "I was saying, 'Oh, well I never, was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees!' What do you think? Next Jellicle Ball, you could have your own song! I was thinking something along the lines of 'And not long ago, this remarkable cat produced seven kitt-'"

"No, Tugger," Mistoffelees said, covering the top hat with the cloth for the last time. Only Pouncival was left to bring home.

"Aw, why not, man?" complained Tugger. "This was awesome! You are, like, the _original _conjuring cat! No doubt. You are." He held up a paw as Mistoffelees began to protest. "Nope. Don't wanna hear it. You're my best bud, and I'm makin' you a song whether or not you want it sung at the next Ball."

"Fine," Mistoffelees sighed, giving in as he helped Pouncival out. "Just don't make me sound ridiculous."

"Would I do that to you?" Tugger grinned unconvincingly. Turning away he began muttering to himself. "His manner is aloof and shy, he likes to set things on fire… No. How about…"

Mr. Mistoffelees fur lost its magic glitter as he faded back to Quaxo. Shaking his head, he went to collect Victoria. If he knew the Rum Tum Tugger, that song was going to be absolutely ridiculous. But Tugger would do what he do do and there was no doing anything about it.

…

**AN: And there it is! This has been the first installment in 'Tales from the Russell Hotel', which is my series of 'CATS' one-shots. This is all based on my assumptions, which may be slightly different than what you're used to…**

**First off, Demeter and Bombalurina used to work for Macavity, then left when he tried to make them do stuff that went against their morals. No one really believes them about how bad Macavity really is.**

**In my version of the CATS world, Macavity is much more like Moriarty. He lives up to the title 'Napoleon of Crime' at the head of a gigantic crime syndicate that no one's certain that he actually heads or not.**

**All Cats are Jellicles. The group from the musical is the Junkyard Group, or the Yardies.**

**Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer and Etcetera are siblings. So are Quaxo and Victoria. I'm not even going to acknowledge the people who think that Coricopat and Tantomile aren't siblings.**

**Grizabella is Quaxo and Vicky's mother. Just look at the sparkly black fur under the gray! She did abandon them, though. The Pollicle.**

**Oh yeah, this is probably important. All of the Jellicles' names are separate. So, I have a Pouncival and a Carbucketty, a Jemima and a Sillabub. Tumblebrutus is technically Tumblebrutus, Jr., since his father was part of Growltiger's crew.**

**Pettipaws, Wiscus and Pushdragon: The names of T.S. Eliot's Cats, I think that they deserve a place in the Yard. **

**Cat Morgan, of course, is the cat from the last poem in 'Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats', and is basically T.S. Eliot's fursona. He may or may not secretly be Growltiger. I haven't decided yet.**

**I'm not sure whether the RumpusCat is an actual Cat or not yet, either. If he is, then he'll probably have a mild-mannered alter-ego in the form of Wiscus: the Scaredy Cat.**

**So, yeah. Sorry for the super-long author's note. See you next time in the Russell Hotel.**


	2. Chapter 2

The Theatre Cat's Last Bow

"_For he isn't the Cat that he was in his prime; though his name was quite famous, he says, in its time."_

_~Gus: The Theatre Cat, _by T.S. Eliot

…

"Gus is the Cat at the theatre door," Jellylorum sang, as she had nearly a dozen times in recent years. This year was different, though. This year, Gus had hardly been able to drag himself from his basket backstage to join the others at the Jellicle Ball. His paws were shaking worse than ever, and his fur had lost clumps.

To think that it had only been a year since he had helped send Grizabella off to the Heaviside Layer!

As he sang his song, Gus' voice rasped and creaked. He was almost sobbing by the time he had gotten to the line "And I once played Growltiger, could do it again!"

Gus' son, Asparagus, Jr., began to trot onto the stage in the Growltiger costume, when Jellylorum stopped him with a look. They could let the old tom have this, at least. Shedding the eyepatch and sword, Asparagus buckled them onto his father.

The old cat did as well as he could in 'Growltigers Last Stand'. The young Queen, Victoria, played Griddlebone, and Coricopat performed admirably as Gilbert. Tumblebrutus played his namesake, while Pouncival was Grumbuskin.

Gus did all of his lines sitting down on a paint can, and had to be helped through 'The Ballad of Billy McCaw'. When the time came for the swordfight, he tottered to his foot-paws and attempted to trade a few blows with Coricopat. However, even with the grimalkin pulling his swings, each half-hearted hit almost bowled the old Tom over.

When the play was at last over, Gus turned to the others to deliver his last lines.

"These modern productions are all very well," he rasped. "But there's nothing to equal, from what I hear tell, that moment of mystery, when I…made history…" The ancient cat began crying, and Mr. Mistoffelees stepped forward and took his paws.

"As Firefrorfiddle: The Fiend of the Fell!" the tuxedo tom finished. Gus nodded his thanks as Mistoffelees led him to sit besides Old Deuteronomy.

Normally, at this time in the Ball, they would begin the song of Skimbleshanks. However, tonight the Railway Cat was sitting on the ground, sans waistcoat, with a sad look on his face. There was no place for his song tonight. Munkustrap, though, knew what to do next.

Springing to the center of the Yard, the Jellicle Protector announced in a loud voice "Now, Old Deuteronomy, just before dawn, through a silence you feel you could cut with a knife, announces the Cat who can now be reborn and come back to a different Jellicle life!"

Stepping down from the tire, Old Deuteronomy made a round of the Yard, looking into the face of every Cat present. They all knew that it was just for show, however. Just like last year, there was only one possible Choice.

Coming back to Gus, Old Deuteronomy bent down and whispered in his ear, "It's you."

Gus' face split in a Cheshire grin as Asparagus and Jellylorum helped him to his feet. Then, supported on one side by Old Deuteronomy and on the other by Munkustrap, he began the traditional walk around the Junkyard. The other Cats followed, chanting the song.

"Up, up, up, past the Russell Hotel. Up, up, up, up, to the Heaviside Layer," they sang. And, if you looked closely, could you _swear _that the shadow attached to Gus' foot-paws was, in fact, his? Was it not rather the shadow of some enormous hairy fiend? Was it not the shadow, to be blunt, of Firefrorfiddle?

Gus and Old Deuteronomy climbed onto the tire as the song echoed on. "Up, up, up, past the Jellicle Moon! Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer!"

The tire rose into the air as the Stairway to the Heaviside Layer descended. Some of the Jellicles, Jellylorum among them, would later swear that they had seen the faint shape of Gus' grandest creation step onto the stair with him.

"That moment of mystery, when he made history as Firefrorfiddle: the Fiend of the Fell!" the Junkyard Cats sang jubilantly, mourning for the old Tom yes, but also celebrating the fact that he would soon be reborn.

…

Later, as Victoria and Plato cuddled together in their humans' house, Victoria nudged Plato.

"Darling?" she asked.

"Yes, my Queen?" answered Plato. Victoria giggled and covered her mouth.

"Silly," she said, smacking her mate in the back of the head with a padded paw. "I just wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, ask away," Plato said, "I'll try not to fall asleep."

"I was thinking," mewed Vicky, "And I think that we should name one of our kittens Asparagus the Third."

"That's nice, dear," Plato yawned, turning over in the cat-bed.

He sat up. "Wait. Did you say 'our kittens'?"

Victoria was already asleep.

…

**AN: Well, this gave me an odd sort of closure. I always felt that Gus deserved to go to Heaviside.**

**This is one of my few chapters to take place after the musical. It won't happen too often.**


	3. Chapter 3

Was it His Last Stand?

"_I once was a Pirate what sailed the 'igh seas- but now I've retired as a com-mission-aire."_

_~Cat Morgan Introduces Himself, _by T.S. Eliot.

…

One fine morning in the Junkyard, a yowl sounded out from the Vicarage Entrance (so named because it was the entrance Old Deuteronomy used on his excursions) where Alonzo was on patrol. Stopping what he was doing, Munkustrap rushed to his aid. However, when he arrived, the only unfamiliar Cats in sight were a kitten and an elderly Jellicle.

The kitten was a young male tortoiseshell with a short tail- the sort of Cat that you would pass on the street without a second thought. The older Cat, though… To start, he was a bright scarlet color to rival Bombalurina. The effect, unfortunately, was spoiled by the fact that his coat was matted and dirty. His left ear was torn to ribbons, and his right eye was milky blue and glazed over. His left hind leg looked as though it had been broken and healed improperly so as to cause a permanent limp.

"Mornin'," he mewed, turning to Munkustrap. "As I was just tellin' yer young 'Lonzo here, me name's Cat Morgan. Me young friend here is called Grumbuskin the Second. Who might you be?"

"I am the Jellicle Protector," Munkustrap introduced himself proudly. "My Sensible Name is Durnell, but you may call me by my Particular Name: Munkustrap. It's a pleasure to meet you and your protégé. Might I assume that he is the son of _the _Grumbuskin of Growltiger's raffish crew?"

"Pleasure to meet you too, Munk'strap," Morgan said. "An' yeah, that'd be right. This young lad comes from a long line o' Pirates, 'e does. It's too bad that 'e lost 'is voice in a fight."

"Oh?" Munkustrap asked, looking to Grumbuskin for confirmation. When the young Tom nodded, he continued. "Well, we have several good healers in our Junkyard, would you like to come in? We also have a son of one of Growltiger's crew, by the by."

"Oh, ta," mewed Morgan. "It's been a while since we had any safe place to stay. And, er, who is this young relative of one of Growltiger's Cats, eh?"

"Why so interested?" Alonzo broke in, having watched the conversation peacefully until now; he drew the line at strangers asking too many questions about the Yard kittens.

"Oh, come now," Munkustrap admonished. "I'm sure that Cat Morgan means no harm! Mayhaps he is merely interested on young Grumbuskin's behalf. Tumblebrutus certainly does know many stories about his father's aventures as a Buccaneer."

"Aye, what 'e said," agreed Morgan. "'Buskin 'ere enjoys 'earin' about 'is Da', an' I don' know that many stories. Lissen, I've got a friend 'ereabouts, but 'e don' know no 'ealing like. So, if you let 'Buskin stay 'ere for a couple o' days, I'll go an' try to get a job or summat, savvy?"

"Sounds perfectly all right to me," said Munkustrap. "Alonzo, please allow our guests' entrance."

…

Three days later, Cat Morgan told Munkustrap that he had found a home for himself and Grumbuskin at the Faber and Faber publishing house in London. Two days after that, Old Deuteronomy officially welcomed the twosome into the Jellicle Junkyard. That night was a full moon, and there was a Jellicle Ball. Not one of the Yearly Balls when one Jellicle was sent to the Heaviside Layer, but an ordinary Full Moon Festival.

By that time, Jennyanydots was saying that Grumbuskin might begin speaking soon, and Cat Morgan had ingratiated himself with a number of the Yardies, old and young. He was also drawing the attention of Jellylorum, the Theatre Cat's daughter.

At one point, Munkustrap stood up and said, "Now, if there are any Jellicles who have a song that they wish to sing, now is the time to do so."

To the surprise of every Cat there, Morgan stood up and said, "I've got a song, sir. And if no one objec's, I'd like ter sing it now."

There were no objections, so Cat Morgan moved to the center of the clearing and began to sing.

"_I once was a Pirate what sailed the 'igh seas-_

_But now I've retired as a com-mission-aire:_

_And that's how you find me a-takin' my ease_

_And keepin' the door in a Bloomsbury Square."_

Before going on, Morgan stopped to clear his throat and look at Old Deuteronomy. The Jellicle Leader nodded at him to continue, so he cleared his throat again and went on.

"_I'm partial to partridges, likewise to grouse,_

_And I favor that Devonshire cream in a bowl;_

_But I'm allus content with a drink on the 'ouse_

_And a bit o' cold fish when I done me patrol."_

Stopping uncertainly again, he looked around to see whether anyone still wanted him to continue. After being given encouraging looks by Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, he continued.

"_I ain't got much polish, me manners is gruff,_

_But I've got a good coat, and I keep meself smart;_

_And everyone says, and I guess that's enough:_

'_You can't but like Morgan, 'e's got a kind 'art.'"_

He stopped for a moment to clear his throat and Tumblebrutus brought him some water.

"Thank ye kindly," Morgan mewed before taking a sip. "Not too sure about this next bit," he muttered under his breath before going on.

"_I got knocked about on the Barbary Coast,_

_And me voice it ain't no sich melliferous horgan,_

_But yet I can state, and I'm not one to boast,_

_That some of the gals is dead keen on old Morgan."_

The last line of the stanza was delivered with a hearty wink at Jellylorum, who laughed and waved him off with a Cheshire smile. Returning the grin, Morgan turned to Old Deuteronomy.

"This 'ere's the las' verse," he said. "All righ'?" the ancient Cat gave Morgan a deep nod, so he turned back to the majority of the Jellicles to finish.

"_So if you 'ave business with Faber- or Faber-_

_I'll give you this tip, and it's worth a lot more:_

_You'll save yourself time, and you'll spare yourself labor_

_If jist you make friends with the Cat at the door."_

Jellylorum led a burst of applause as Cat Morgan flushed and limped back to his seat, face flushed with embarrassment.

"It were nothing," he meowed. "You Cats' songs is a lot better. That were nothing." A lot of the other Jellicles disagreed though, and it was decided that Morgan would have to do his song again at some point.

However, before the older Tom could get swamped with kittens, Grumbuskin surprised everyone but Jennyanydots by bursting onto stage (in a way of speaking) in full Pirate costume, along with Tumblebrutus, and launching into a stunning rendition of 'Growltiger's Last Stand'.

It was a production by kittens, for kittens, with Grumbuskin and Tumblebrutus as their fathers, Pouncival as Gilbert, Victoria as Griddlebone, and Wiscus starring, albeit reluctantly, as Growltiger himself.

Carbucketty, Bill Bailey, Sillabub, Jemima, Pettipaws, Etcetera and Electra had immense fun as both the raffish crew and the Mongolian horde. They sang 'The Ballad of Billy McCaw' since none of them could hit the notes necessary for the aria.

Even Quaxo got in on the act, sneaking off where no one could see him and releasing a burst of fireworks at the appropriate moment. The Rum Tum Tugger clapped the loudest at that, as Demeter's tail sponged and Munkustrap had to comfort her and tell her that it was highly unlikely to be Macavity.

The night was largely considered a success. Jennyanydots had made her famous fry of lean bacon and cheese, and the Tugger had caught both mice _and_ rats with plenty of help from his fan-club. Bustopher Jones had even brought some mutton from the _Tomb, _so there was plenty to eat for all.

At the end of the night, Carbucketty and Tumblebrutus volunteered to walk Grumbuskin and Cat Morgan back their home in Bloomsbury Square. Munkustrap allowed them to go as long as they took an adult to walk them back. Collecting Buz-james, they sallied forth into the night.

"Is it true that you were a Pirate, sir?" Carbucketty asked, thoughtfully. "Because I heard you say it in your song, and it would be too bad if it wasn't true." Morgan laughed at that.

Yes son," he mewed, drawing his tail over the young Tom's shoulders, "I was indeed a Pirate. I was an amazing Pirate in me day, and I would still be buccaneering if it weren't for me leg."

"So," Tumblebrutus said thoughtfully, "have you ever heard of what happened to Growltiger after he walked the plank?"

"O' course I have!" Morgan said, stopping outside the publishing house and sitting down with a grunt. "When he fell off o' the plank, 'e swam to shore. What ol' Gilbert didn' think through was that the barge was docked fairly close to shore, an' that Growltiger knew 'ow to swim. When ol' 'Tiger got to shore, 'e foun' is bucko mate an' they foun' some place to live.

"Eventually, Grumbuskin got mated an' left. When 'e died, I adopted 'is son as 'is closest relative an' friend. The rest, as they say, is 'istory."

"But where's Growltiger now?" Tumblebrutus questioned.

"No one knows," Cat Morgan mewed with a smile. Buz-james chose this time to interrupt and tell the young Toms that it was time to go home.

As they left, Morgan heard the kittens talking.

"Do you think that Cat Morgan _is_ Growltiger?" Carbucketty asked.

"Nah," answered Tumblebrutus. "First off, Munkustrap and Old Deut would never have let the 'Terror of the Thames' join the Yard, and second off, he doesn't even look like him!"

"Well," Carbucketty rationalized. "He certainly looks like the description in the song."

Cat Morgan just smiled to himself. "Come on, young Grumbuskin," he said. "Come on inside and show yer ol' uncle how you can talk now. Maybe I'll tell you a story 'bout your Da' before we go to sleep, eh? A story about when we were Pirates together."

…

**Disclaimer: The estate of T.S. Eliot owns 'Cat Morgan Introduces Himself,' I merely reproduced it here for the enjoyment of those who have never before read this lovely poem. Although, what are you doing watching 'CATS' if you've never read the book?**

**AN: I'm not sure if Cat Morgan is actually Growltiger (although it looks that way) or merely a member of his raffish crew. He doesn't exactly look like the Growltiger from the play, does he? It's the scarlet pelt.**

**Buz-james is from 'The Ad-dressing of Cats'. His line goes thus: "I've heard them call him James Buz-james- but we've not got so far as names.' I just pulled the first 'James' off in order to make it shorter.**

**I enjoyed the idea of 'Growltiger's Last Stand' being put on completely by kittens, didn't you? Poor Wiscus, being made to be Growltiger when all he wants to do is to be left alone. It could be worse. Sillabub could have been playing Griddlebone.**

**I'm not sure why Munkustrap's Sensible Name is Durnell. It is the last name of one of the authors of my science textbook…**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, you're getting this today instead of tomorrow because I won't be using the computer that day. Also, if you had reviewed over the past week, you would have gotten a story about Jemima and Mr. Mistoffelees.**

Demeter: The Tortured Cat

"_Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, for he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity."_

_~Macavity: The Mystery Cat, _by T.S. Eliot.

**Warning: Mention of physical and emotional abuse. Nothing graphic, it's just implied.**

…

Munkustrap was taking his shift at the Railyard entrance to the Junkyard. All was going well in the Yard itself. However, there was uproar in the Jellicle Underworld of London.

It had started off with many more sightings of Mystery Cats than usual. But soon after that, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had shown up and said that one of their informants had told them that the Hidden Paw, leader of the crime ring known as the Mystery Cats, had lost his mate. She wasn't dead, simply lost.

Not only had the Hidden Paw lost his mate, but their two daughters and one of his Hench-Queens. And not even that was the end of it! Two Cats calling themselves Scratch and Mephisto had shown up at the Yard, accusing Munkustrap of hiding the Hidden Paw's family! He had never been so insulted in all his life, as he had told his next-door neighbor.

As he mused over this, he heard a crash resound from the pipe that served as the Railyard-facing entrance to the Junkyard. Leaping to his feet, he stared into the metal tube. Inside, he could vaguely see the silhouettes of two Jellicle Cats, one leaning on the other's shoulder.

"Who's there?" he called, trying to sound authoritative. "This is the territory of the Junkyard Jellicles, and I am the Jellicle Protector, Munkustrap. Are you friend or foe?"

"Neither, yet!" a voice sounded from inside the pipe. As the duo drew closer, Munkustrap realized that it was a pair of Queens. One was extremely beautiful. Munkustrap's brother, the Rum Tum Tugger, would have described her as a 'hot Tam,' but Munkustrap was more respectful than that. The Queen was a bright scarlet color, with elliptical spots and a white bib and face.

"The name's Bombalurina," she said, revealing herself to have been the one who had spoken before. "This is Demeter. Please be careful around her."

Demeter was a black-and-gold Queen with a white bib and reddish streaks. She was crouching, half-supported by Bombalurina, with her face turned away from Munkustrap. She was trembling even though the night was a warm one, and small gasps and whimpers kept escaping her. Her matted fur stood on end and her tail was standing up straight.

"Is she all right?" Munkustrap asked, reaching a paw out to help Demeter. As soon as his paw brushed her shoulder, he had to step back, reeling with pain. As though it was instinct (and it probably was), the Queen had struck him with unsheathed claws, leaving deep scratches across his face. Now she crouched on the pipe floor, face twisted in a snarl, but still shivering with fear.

"Don't touch her!" Bombalurina hissed as Munkustrap attempted to keep from cursing in the presence of Queens. "She isn't ready for a Tom to touch her yet," she added sadly.

Munkustrap froze in his tracks at that. He had heard of that, but never seen it. When a Tom hurt a Queen so badly, and in such a way that she grew afraid of all Toms- that was the most despicable thing a Tom could ever do.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll go find our Gumbie Cat. Her name is Jennyanydots. Can you wait a few minutes?"

"Sure," mewed Bombalurina. "We can wait a couple of minutes. We don't have anywhere else to go."

"Thanks," Munkustrap meowed, running off to the overturned bathtub Jennyanydots stayed in while at the Yard. When he got there, he interrupted one of Jenny's drilling sessions with her cockroaches.

"Squad dismissed!" she yowled, before turning to Munkustrap. "Dear Heaviside, what happened to you? Are those claw marks?"

"Yes," he panted, having run quite a way in order to get to the bathtub. "But that's…not important. There's a…Queen at the…Railyard entrance." He got his breath back just then. "There's something wrong. She won't let me touch her. And Jenny," he said, stopping the Gumbie Cat before she left the den. "I think that she might very well be the Hidden Paw's mate."

Jennyanydots ran to the pipe before you could have said her name.

When she and Munkustrap got there, the two Queens had been joined by a pair of she-kittens. One was white with ginger markings, and was much friskier than the other, who was ginger with white markings. The two Princesses, who were obviously littermates, were much too thin for their age, and their ribcages were faintly visible beneath their fur.

"Hello, again," Bombalurina mewed, casting a disapproving look at Munkustrap, at the sight of whom Demeter had curled up on the ground. "Is this the Gumbie you promised?"

"Yes, this is Jennyanydots," answered Munkustrap. "Are these your daughters?" He asked, gesturing to the kittens.

"Oh, Basements, no!"Bombalurina said, shuddering at the thought. "Me, with kittens? No, they're Deme's. This is Jemima," she pulled the ginger one towards her as she spoke, "and this is Sillabub." She did the same with the white Princess.

"Hi!" Sillabub said, before Munkustrap could ask where they got their unique coloring if they were Demeter's. "Is this really the Jellicle Junkyard? Because Father always told me that his mother lived here at one point. Father was mean to Mummy, though. I'm glad we left."

"Silla!" Jemima hissed. "Don't talk to him! Mummy doesn't like him!"

"Mummy doesn't like anyone," Sillabub reasoned as Jenny began to lead them into the Yard and to her den. "But he seems nice. He brought Mummy the nice Queen, didn't he?"

And indeed, Demeter did seem to have taken quite a shine to Jennyanydots. At least, she was no longer shivering and would answer questions when they were directly asked of her.

Just then, Sillabub caught sight of some of the other kittens playing in a corner of the clearing. "Oh, look!" she squealed. "There are other kittens! May we play with them, Mummy? Please?"

Jemima scowled at the thought of speaking to anyone she didn't know yet, but Demeter gave a half-hearted smile and waved her children off towards the kittens.

"Why don't you show Bombalurina around the Yard while I examine Demeter?" Jenny asked Munkustrap. He nodded and led the scarlet Queen off while Jenny took Demeter under the tub.

"Now dear," the old Gumbie Cat mewed as she settled the black-and-gold Queen onto a blanket, "you're safe now, so why don't you tell me a bit about what happened to you?"

Deme hid her face in her paws and sobbed. "I can't!" she mewled pitifully. "I just can't! You don't know what it's like!"

"Shh," Jenny purred, sitting beside Demeter and laying her tail over the distraught Queen's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me all of it, but you might be surprised at what I understand. I was a member of Growltiger's crew once."

Deme looked up at the tranquil old Jellicle in amazement. "You were?" she asked.

"Can't a Gumbie Cat have a reckless Past?" Jenny responded. "I wasn't exactly a Pirate, more like the ship's doctor. Still, I did some swashbuckling in my time, how about you?"

"Oh, yes," Demeter answered. "I was in the Inner ring of the Mystery Cats. I'm a master-thief, you know," she added, looking up at Jenny. The older Queen only nodded and motioned for her to go on.

"Well," Demeter continued, "one day, the leader- we call him theHidden Paw, or Napoleon, short for Napoleon of Crime- proposed to me. And he was so handsome, even though he's so dusty and tangled, and I know I'm not pretty, but-" Here,Jennyanydots stopped her.

"Oh, dear," she said, wrapping her arms around Deme, who tensed for a moment before relaxing again. "You are pretty! You're a beautiful, young Queen and don't you dare ever let anyone tell you differently."

"Yes…" Deme went on with a quiver in her voice. "Well, he was very handsome, and even though Bomba warned me…I said yes!" Demeter broke into quiet sobs and Jenny started stroking behind her ears to comfort her. After a while, Deme was ready to continue.

"We were happy for a few years," she said, her voice still quivering. "We had Sillabub and Jemima. They have Napoleon's coloring. The Mystery Cats were at their strongest and we had everything that we could ever want- and it changed him. Napoleon wasn't satisfied anymore. He always wanted more…" Demeter trailed off.

"So, what happened?" Jenny asked. Demeter just looked at her and shook her head. "Well," Jennyanydots said, "if you don't want to tell me, may I ask you some questions?" Demeter nodded and Jenny sat up to ask questions.

"This first one may be awkward," she mewed apologetically. "Did Napoleon ever…make you…do anything you didn't want to?"

"No," Demeter answered, and Jennyanydots relaxed visibly.

"Did he ever threaten to?" was the next question.

Demeter took a deep breath. "He did," she mewled. "And he hurt me." Jenny started stroking behind Deme's ears again to help her relax.

"Well, it's all over now," she purred. "That fiend can't get at you any longer. We Junkyard Jellicles will protect you. I'll fight to my last fur if I have to. But I won't have to!" Jenny added, seeing that Deme was getting panicked again. "He doesn't know where you are, and we'll never tell him."

"Thank you," purred Demeter, leaning against Jenny's shoulder. "But how could you protect me?"

"I was a Pirate, remember?" Jenny laughed. "I've still got my old carving knife, and if that fails, I have my claws. All of us do, and Munkustrap-" She stopped, remembering that Demeter was frightened of him. And indeed, she had drawn away from Jennyanydots and her tail was sponged.

"Well, never mind him," Jenny decided. "The point is that you're safe now dear. No one here wants to hurt you."

Demeter took a breath to steady herself. She released her claws from the blanket, not remembering when she had released them in the first place. As Jenny waited for Deme's fur to settle down, she went to her stock and withdrew some lettuce.

"Chew this, dear," she mewed. "It's a soporific, it'll help you sleep." Demeter took the lettuce and began to chew, after a few minutes, she started to get sleepy.

"Can I stay here with you?" she asked. Jenny smiled and nodded, which in turn provoked a slight smile from Demeter. "I think the kittens would like it here," she yawned. "You know, they never knew…that their father was…as bad as he was. Although…they suspected something…Especially…Sillabub. She always…was…smart…"

As Demeter drifted off, Jennyanydots tiptoed out of the overturned bathtub to find Old Deuteronomy.

…

Several months later, it seemed as though the newcomers were settling in. Bombalurina had discovered the Rum Tum Tugger, and enjoyed teasing him as much- if not more- than he enjoyed teasing her. Sillabub and Jemima had joined his fan-club, which was headed by Electra. However, Sillabub was much more serious about the whole thing than Jemima was.

Sillabub had also had her first crush on a Tom her age in the form of Wiscus, a kitten who was frightened of almost everything, even his shadow. When they were together, they made a sharp contrast. Wiscus: The Scaredy Cat and Sillabub: The Cat Scared of Nothing.

Jemima had been watchful and wary for her first month at the Yard, after that, she made friends with Victoria- a white kitten who was almost deaf. Strangely enough, Jemima's voice was the perfect pitch to make it down the twisted tunnels of Vicky's ears. Jemima was a wonderful singer, and as Victoria could finally hear the music when someone sang, her dancing improved to amazing levels. This, in its turn, inspired Jemima to sing even better, so everyone was happy.

Demeter had opened up more to Jennyanydots over the months past, and had told her more of what had happened. Jenny was appalled to hear the kinds of things that went on at the Mystery Cats' sewer base. Even in her days as a Pirate, she had never seen or heard half of the horrible things Demeter told her about.

Mungojerrie's informant told him that the Mystery Cats' leader had chosen a new mate. It was someone that Jennyanydots had used to know- Griddlebone, who used to be Growltiger's mate. As Jenny supposed that Growltiger was probably dead, what she would have called treachery at one point now meant nothing. Besides, she was much too busy helping other Cats and drilling her mice and roaches to worry about some ex-shipmates. She had a new life now.

Everything was going wonderfully. It looked as though Munkustrap was in love with Demeter. Every morning, he brought her breakfast. He was very careful to stay out of sight, though, and he would give it to Jenny and request that it be brought to Demeter. Once Jenny had done so, she would tell Deme who brought it.

It seemed as though Demeter might be warming up to the others. She would allow the Tom-kittens near her, and it looked as though she was healing from her traumatic experience. Yes, everything was going well.

Then Munkustrap brought his next-door neighbor to the Yard.

It started when Munkustrap showed up with a strange scent on him. He went up to his deputy, Alonzo, and requested permission to bring a strange Cat into the Yard. This was standard procedure for any non-injured Jellicle who wished to enter- a Cat of the Junkyard had to vouch for them to the highest authority present. Normally, Munkustrap would have gone to Old Deuteronomy, but he was at the Vicarage.

Alonzo gave his permission, feeling awkward to be acting in such a way to his superior, and Munkustrap turned to introduce his friend.

"In a few moments," he began, somewhat pompously, as Cats will, "my friend will enter the Yard. It is my hope that he may eventually join us here. His Sensible Name is Professor, but he likes to be known as Macavity!"

As Munkustrap said this, a tall, ginger Cat entered through the Railway pipe. He was very well groomed, and had a mane to rival Tugger's. His head swung back and forth as he took in everything. At the same moment that Macavity entered, Demeter left Jennyanydots' den. When she saw the Jellicle, her coat stood on end and her eyes dilated.

"Napoleon!" she yowled, and ducked back under the bathtub. Everyone, save Jenny, was absolutely confused, and none more than Macavity.

"Who is this Napoleon?" he asked in a deep, cultured voice. "He doesn't seem like a nice fellow, if he incites a reaction like that."

"He's a Tom who was very bad to Demeter," Jenny explained. "I'm just going to check on her. Please _stay out here." _Turning to go inside, she heard Munkustrap and Macavity discussing how bad it was that Macavity apparently looked similar to Napoleon.

On entering the den, Jenny was not at all surprised to see Demeter curled up on the floor. She was, however, very surprised to see that Demeter was cradling Jennyanydots' carving knife from when she was a Pirate. As Jenny drew closer, Deme looked up and pointed the knife at her.

"Don't come any closer," she whimpered. "You said that you'd keep him away. But you didn't, did you?"

Jenny slowly came closer to Deme and plucked the knife from her trembling paws. "Dear," she said, "Macavity denies being Napoleon, and if he is, you're the only one who can identify him."

"What about Bomba? Or the twins?" asked Deme, genuinely terrified.

"Oh, dear," Jenny mewed sympathetically. "I'm sorry, but Bomba and Tugger took all of the kittens out hunting. Listen," she added, sitting down beside the shaking Queen, "you can wear my knife. I'll tie the belt on you. If it is Napoleon, you can gut him where he stands. If it isn't, we'll tell Munkustrap that Macavity needs to leave because he brings back bad memories for you."

"Do you think he would send him away?" Demeter asked hopefully.

"I know so," Jennyanydots smiled. "He would do anything for you, dear."

"I'll go," Demeter said. Jenny found the makeshift cardboard sheath for the knife and the string belt. She tied them onto Demeter and slid the knife into the sheath.

"There," she said, standing back and admiring the effect. "You look positively dangerous.""Thanks," Demeter mewed, starting for the door. Just before she reached it, though, she drew back fearfully. "What if he hurts me?" she asked, tears springing to her eyes. Jenny drew her tail along Deme's shoulders and nuzzled her under the chin, as Cats do.

"He wouldn't dare!" she growled emphatically. "All of us are ready to defend you at a moment's notice! If you like, I'll go out and talk to Munkustrap first.

"Alright," Demeter mewed.

So the Gumbie Cat left her den once more in order to speak with the Jellicle Protector. Walking up to Munkustrap, she shot an angry look at Macavity before beginning to speak.

"Munkustrap, Demeter wants to come out here and make certain that Macavity is not Napoleon. I know that you do not believe he is, but would you be willing to allow her to ease her mind?"

"Of course," Munkustrap said. "I'd do anything for her." He turned to Macavity. "What do you think? After all, if you're innocent, then you have nothing at all to worry about."

"If it will ease the lady's mind, then I shall subject to the test," the ginger elucidated, bowing slightly to Jenny.

The old Gumbie was not so easily won over, however. "If you are this Napoleon, then you will be killed," she said, frowning. "In fact, even if you aren't, you can't stay here. It would bring up too many bad memories for the girl."

Macavity began to protest not being able to stay if he was innocent, but Munkustrap found that he quite agreed with Jennyanydots, and was adamant about Macavity's departure. Eventually everything was decided upon, and Jenny called for Demeter.

As she came out of the den, Munkustrap audibly drew in breath at the sight of her. She had taken the time the others had spent arguing to groom herself, and with the knife strapped to her waist, she looked like a swashbuckling Queen. Which she was, in a way.

Walking up to Macavity, she took his chin in paw with only a slight tremble and stared into his eyes. Letting go after a few seconds, she walked around him, sniffing the air, and then she turned to his face again.

"Speak," she commanded, her voice just barely quivering.

"Certainly," Macavity enunciated clearly. "Is there any particular topic upon which you would like to converse?"

Demeter sighed and almost fainted. Jennyanydots rushed forward to catch her, but Deme waved her off. "It's not him," she said. "His eyes are green, not yellow, and he doesn't smell the same. Also, Na-Napoleon had a lower-class accent."

"Well," said Munkustrap to his friend. "It seems as though you are innocent! Now it is time for you to leave. Sorry, old friend, but it must be done."

"Thank goodness for that!" Macavity purred. "Well, I will not darken your doorstep any longer. May I see myself out?" Munkustrap gave permission, and Macavity made for the exit.

As soon as he was out of sight, Demeter slumped. Munkustrap lunged forward and was barely able to catch her before she hit the ground. Smiling slightly, she whispered into his ear. "I thought he'd never leave."

"Er, Demeter?" Munkustrap said. "Would you like me to let go of you now?"

Deme's eyes widened and her tail fluffed for a moment, but then she relaxed. "No," she said, nuzzling Munkustrap's cheek. "I want you to hold onto me and protect me forever, my silver knight." With that, she fell completely unconscious.

"Poor dear," Jenny said. "The stress got to her. Here, bring her inside."

…

Macavity watched this all from afar. Snarling, he entered the pipe leading to the outside world. No one was around to notice how his eyes turned yellow as he entered the dim light, or how his scent mixed with that of the dirty water to create a smell that would be very familiar to Demeter.

"Oi'l lgit tha' Tam back if'n it's the last t'ing I do!" he snarled under his breath, dropping back into his customary Cockney accent. "Oi'm the master criminal wot can defy the law. _No one _escapes the Napoleon o' Crime!"

…

**AN: I feel guilty for doing this to Demeter, but it really underscores how evil Macavity is. Worry not! This is merely part one of a two-parter. I can't promise when the next one will show up, and I can't promise that Demeter will be perfectly okay. However, I can promise that she will warm up to some of the others in the Yard, and that Mr. Mistoffelees will make an appearance.**

**I realize that Demeter probably opened up to Jennyanydots too quickly, but this is my first time writing something like this. Fanfiction is to help my writing skills. I couldn't think of anywhere else to put it. Anyone know how I could do better?**

**Rereading the stories I have written, I've realized that I am building a grand mythos based on Growltiger. So, when he does show up (if he hasn't already) it will be big. Who knew that Jennyanydots used to be a Pirate? I certainly didn't before I wrote it. That was a shock.**

**Remember to review! You know you want to.**


	5. Chapter 5

Who Should Stalk Out?

(Part One)

"_When suddenly, up from a small basement flat, why who should stalk out but the GREAT RUMPUSCAT."_

_ Of the Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles, _by T.S. Eliot.

…

"Quaxo?" called Wiscus, as he roamed through the Yard. Earlier that day, Wiscus had been badgering Quaxo yet again to show him some magic. Despite being frightened of everything from Pollicles to his own shadow, the young Tom could be extremely annoying.

Ever since the Magical Mister Quaxo Mistoffelees had revealed to a select group of Yardies, including Wiscus, that he was a conjurer, some of them had refused to stop asking for more. He had sworn them to secrecy, but that didn't mean they couldn't speak about it while alone. Wiscus and his friend Sillabub were the worst of the group.

In any case, Wiscus had gotten _so _annoying that Quaxo had finally agreed to give him a quick magic show in an obscure corner of the Yard. However, now that he was there, Quaxo was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, there was a screeching noise and Quaxo, in his Mistoffelees form, came rocketing out from behind a trash pile like a Basement bat.

"Pollicles!" he yowled, rushing up to Wiscus, tail sponged and claws out. "They're everywhere!"

As he spoke, the truth of his statement was shown as dogs appeared from behind various junk-heaps and surrounded the two Jellicles. There were a variety of Pollicles, from Alsatians to huskies to German shepherds.

"What do we do?" Wiscus panicked. "What do we do? What do we do? What do we do!?"

"Stop yowling in my ear to start!" Mistoffelees growled. "I can use my magic to hold some of them off." To demonstrate, he sent a lightning bolt at a bulldog that was getting a little close for comfort. "I could also try and use a strength spell on you, if that's okay?"

"Do it!" yowled Wiscus, leaping away from an Alsatian's jaws. "Do it now!"

Mr. Mistoffelees aimed his paws at Wiscus and began to call on his magic, before he could refine it, however, a Pollicle jumped at him. Mistoffelees started away in shock and the black beam of raw magical energy flew from his paws and hit Wiscus in the heart. The result was explosive.

There was a burst of power, its epicenter focused on the young Tom. Through the haze of magical fog, Mr. Mistoffelees thought that he could see Wiscus growing larger. Suddenly, there was a crazed, high-pitched giggle and a clawed paw lashed out of the smoke and bowled a husky tail-over-muzzle.

"All hail and bow to the Great RumpusCat!" the same high voice caterwauled. Mistoffelees stared in shock. Where the short, tabby form of Wiscus had stood merely a moment ago, there now stood a tall, black shorthair with silver markings highlighting his enormous muscles. He had a crazed look in his blazing red eyes, and long hairs stood out from his joints and ears. Where Wiscus' collar had had a diamond-shaped tag with a 'W', this Cat's had a shield with an 'R'.

"W-Wiscus?" Mistoffelees stuttered. "Is that you?"

Not-Wiscus turned to him and grinned. "You were expecting the Hidden Paw?" he giggled. "Yeah, it's me. But I think that I want to be called the Great RumpusCat now. Can you do that? Please, for your pal?"

"No arguments from me," mewed Mr. Mistoffelees nervously. "However, can we worry about the dogs for now?"

"Dogs?" the RumpusCat queried, looking around. "Oh, yeah, the Pollicles! Sure, I'll take care of 'em! You stand back, Misto."

With that, the newly created super-Jellicle launched himself into the fray, scattering the Pollicles with great swipes of his claws. "I regret nothi-i-i-ing!" he yowled, then stopped for a moment. "Ooh, I like that. I think that'll be my battle cry!"

Mistoffelees shook his head as he watched the battle from the safety of a junk-heap. "I'm not sure if I've created a hero or a monster," he muttered. "Whatever it is, I hope I can reverse it."

The RumpusCat ran off the last of the dogs and turned to his friend. "You don't need to reverse it!" he squealed. "Watch!" With that, the giant Tom's form dwindled and changed until Wiscus was standing in the center of the clearing again.

"Whoo!" Wiscus yowled in his normal voice. "What a rush! I wonder if I can do that again?"

"I wouldn't," advised Mistoffelees, picking his way from the trash-pile to stand beside Wiscus. "We don't know if it's safe yet. Don't tell anyone for now and _don't use it. _I want to study it in a controlled environment. Okay?"

"Fine," Wiscus agreed. "It was just… When I was the RumpusCat, I felt like I could do anything. Fight any Pollicle, climb any building, jump any barrier. Do you know what I mean?"

Mr. Mistoffelees blinked slowly and curled his tail against his toes thoughtfully before nodding. "I do know what you mean," he said. "I felt the same way the first time that I was able to access my power and be Mistoffelees instead of Quaxo. It was like I could take on the world and win." He looked down sadly. "I found out that I couldn't the hard way. I exhausted myself and was in a coma for a week. Uncle Bustopher and Vicky were worried sick. I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

Wiscus nodded slowly. "I get it," he mewed. "I found this human comic book in my owner's flat once about a guy who could climb walls. His motto was, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' Is that what you mean?"

Mistoffelees nodded as the shimmer faded out of his fur and he became Quaxo again. "Exactly what I mean," he confirmed. "And not only responsibility to others. You have to make sure that you aren't a danger to yourself. You looked kind of insane as the RumpusCat and that worries me."

"Yeah, that was weird," Wiscus mewed. "I felt like I couldn't really control what I said. Everything was moving so slowly and I was so _fast! _Is that bad?"

"It might be," said Quaxo. "We'll just have to wait and find out."

…

**AN: The RumpusCat may or may not have Deadpool-ish tendencies (I don't own Deadpool either). It's not exactly a split personality; it's more like Wiscus has extremely low inhibitions while in Rumpus-form. **

**Also, I know that the RumpusCat is played by the same guy as Admetus in the film, but I like the idea of a previously high-strung Cat becoming a super-hero.**

'**Who Should Stalk Out?' is going to be a series-within-a-series for this. Documenting the adventures of Wiscus as he learns to control himself and deal with a growing fan-club, who are unaware that RumpusCat and Wiscus are one and the same.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**-Paradox Predator.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A quick note: Spam is not appreciated, I don't care how much you like Deadpool. I did make a joke about the RumpusCat being like him last chapter, and someone then posted his battle-cry as a review. That was it. That was all they posted. Please do not spam this story. Con-crit is very much loved, however. And yes, it was my sister who spammed, but that's not an excuse. Thanks for noticing this notice. Your noticing has been noted.**

In the Grimy Road…

"_She haunted many a low resort near the grimy road of Tottenham Court."_

_Grizabella: the Glamour Cat, _by T.S. Eliot

…

Late one night, the Jellicle Moon was swinging high in the clouds, and Bustopher Jones was leaving a Ball, cursing Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer for taking all the food. As he hurried past the entrance to a dark alley, he heard a cough sound from within.

In no way was Bustopher a brave Cat, but he could never resist someone in need. So he stepped into the alleyway with trepidation.

"Hello?" he called softly. "Is anyone there, eh?" There was no answer save for more coughing, and Bustopher began to heft his serving spoon like a cricket bat, in case of ambush.

"I shall last out me time. I shall last out me time," he reassured himself in a trembling voice, suddenly not at all sure that he would even last out the night. Oh, what a fool he had been to enter the alley! Surely the terrible forces of the Hidden Paw had even now blocked his exit! Panicking, Bustopher began to curse himself for being such a kind-hearted Cat. Then someone stepped out of the shadows.

"Bustopher?" the bedraggled Queen asked. "Bustopher Jones, is that you?"

The Cat about Town almost had a heart attack (which wasn't very far-fetched) before he recognized the wretched Jellicle standing before him.

"Grizabella?" he mewed in a surprised tone. "By Jove, is that you?"

The Glamour Cat laughed mirthlessly. "Some of it is, but most of it's just an idiot. I hope that you're doing better."

"I suppose, I am, dear sister," he said. "Is there anything you need? Just say the word and it shall be done!" To prove his point, he stood to attention, with his spoon under his arm like a pace stick, and saluted.

"I don't deserve to be called your sister anymore," Grizabella corrected automatically. "But I do need help. Follow me."

Nervously, Bustopher followed his sister's lead deeper into the underbelly of London. There was a sewer grate at the end of the alley, and Grizabella was so thin that she could slip through. Bustopher, on the other hand, had to lever it up with his spoon and his sister's help.

Once inside, the two Cats waded through yards of dirty water until they came to a collapse in the concrete wall of the pipe. The way it had fallen formed a small cave, and Grizabella slipped inside. A moment later she returned with two small, undernourished kittens following her. One was a tuxedo Tom, like Grizabella's and Bustopher's father. And like Bustopher himself, for that matter. The other was a beautiful, pure-white Princess.

"The Tom is named Quaxo Mistoffelees," Grizabella mewed. "His sister doesn't have a name yet. I don't think that she can hear or speak."

And indeed, young Quaxo was very attentive, looking about the pipe and listening to all the sounds, while the Princess had a vacant expression and barely reacted, even when her brother mewed in her ear.

"I can't take care of them," said the ragged Queen. "A sewer is no place for a kitten to grow up in. Do you think that you could take them?"

"Of course, Grizzy," Bustopher said. "I'll take the pair of them. My people love Cats, and I'm certain that they could be easily persuaded to take in two more. If they won't, then I'll find a place for them where I can visit often."

Quaxo looked up at Bustopher with wide, fearful eyes. "Are you the one mummy keeps saying she'll feed us to if we don't stay quiet?"

"Bustopher's eyes narrowed as Grizabella's widened. "What's this then, eh?" he asked the tuxedo kitten. "Your mother says that she's going to feed you to someone?"

"Oh- kittens!" Grizabella giggled nervously. "You know how they exaggerate! Right… brother?"

"Grizabella?" the St. James' Street Cat asked, hefting his spoon threateningly. "Is this true?"

Grizabella changed. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her hackles rose as she hissed. Bustopher stepped back. It was as if he was seeing her anew. What was he thinking; she wanted to take good care of her kittens?

"So, that's it, then?" he hissed. "Kittens are a distraction, hm? And how _dare _anything distract from the career of the Glamour Cat?"

"My son says that they are not needed in the Plans!" the bedraggled Jellicle snarled. "Especially not the deaf one, since there is no use for defective Cats. Only the very best shall live in the new regime!"

"And the other?" asked Bustopher. "Why is he 'defective' as you so eloquently and insultingly put it?"

"He is an abomination!" Grizabella hissed. "He can make objects appear from thin air! My son says-"

"That's quite enough!" Bustopher spat. "A mother should teach her son, not the other way! Who is this son of yours anyway, eh? Why have I never heard of him?"

Grizabella smirked. "I am the mother of the Hidden Paw himself," she meowed smugly.

"Well, then it's certainly a good thing that I'm taking these kittens away from you!" the fat Tom yowled. "You have no business raising anyone, it seems!" he turned to Quaxo and his nameless sister. "Come along. I'm taking you away from here. Don't worry!" he added, as Quaxo's eyes started to tear up, "I'm not going to eat you. I'm taking you someplace nice. Do you think you would like that?"

Quaxo nodded and nudged his sister towards Bustopher. Together the three Jellicles set off towards the opening of the sewer without a goodbye or a backwards glance for Grizabella. As soon as they were out of sight, she collapsed in the filthy water and began to sob.

"There!" she mewled pitifully. "It's done! Are you happy now, making me abuse my own kits and fob them off on my brother?"

A pair of yellow eyes appeared in the shadows. "Oh, mum," a deep voice echoed, "you shood know by now not ta make any 'tachments! It only makes t'ings 'arder in the long run!"

"But what about my children?" sobbed Grizabella. "I might never see them again!"

"It's awl in the service o' the Plan," the voice said so that you could hear the capital 'P.' "They was a det'iment to the whole t'ing. It were better to let them go."

Hissing and spitting, Grizabella jumped up to confront her son and oppressor, but Macavity wasn't there.

…

At Bustopher Jones' St. James' Street home, the humans in residence had taken one look at the starved kittens and taken them in. They had given Quaxo his sensible name, Mortimer Jones, and named the white Princess Victoria.

When Bustopher next went to the Junkyard and was asked by Munkustrap how he had acquired two kittens in one week, he told them all the tale of how they had been maltreated by their mother and finally given to him, for which he was very thankful.

"The only thing I can't quite understand," he would say, scratching his head, "is that who would ever suppose that that monster had ever been Grizabella, the Glamour Cat? She used to be a wonderful young gel, me sister. Still, Cats change, don't they? And none more than her, it seems."

When the kittens were introduced to the others, they were immediately accepted, and between their Uncle Bustopher and the Gumbie Cat, Jennyanydots, they soon quite forgot about their previous ill treatment and were happy kittens.

The adult Cats of the Yard never forgot, however, and Grizabella was forever considered a pariah amongst them. Meanwhile, she sat in the sewer, day by day, hoping that her kittens had found a good home.

…

**AN: Sheesh, that was depressing. Wasn't this supposed to be some fun writing for me? First I traumatize Demeter, now I traumatize Grizabella. At least we all know how Grizzy's story turns out, huh?**

**I also think that this may be, like, my second one-shot that I don't mention Growltiger in. Wow.**

**I may have taken the idea of Quaxo's Sensible Name being Mortimer Jones from another fan-fic. However, I have no idea which one it is. If the person who wrote it reads this, please alert me so I can cite it.**

**At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I end up with a dramatic retelling of the musical. Maybe someday, I'll go back and put all of these in chronological order.**

**Also, I get to go and see '**_**CATS!' **_**live this May! Whoohoo for live shows! No more being a DVD-only fan for me!**

**Please review. But don't spam (you know who you are).**


	7. Chapter 7

**Before we get started, I'd like to thank the guest, Walt Whitman, for his review. It was very encouraging. Especially as I know absolutely nothing about London except what's on 'Doctor Who' and 'Sherlock.' Thanks again, actually, thanks for all the reviews, everyone. They're very encouraging.**

All Alone in the Lamplight

"_Someone mutters and a street lamp gutters and soon it will be morning."_

_~Memory, _from CATS.

…

"That was beautiful, dear," Demeter smiled as her daughter, Jemima, finished rehearsing her song for the Jellicle Ball. "It's time for you to head home, though."

Despite being Demeter's daughter, Jemima did not live with her at the Junkyard, but made her home with her sister, Sillabub, and their mother's friend, Jennyanydots.

"Yes, Mum," Jemima said, giving her mother a hug before turning to leave. As she was in a hurry to get home, she did not hear Demeter's final warning to get one of the Toms to walk her there.

As she walked down the quiet back-streets of London, Jemima felt the need to sing her song again. Clearing her throat, she began.

"_Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight._

_Let your memory lead you._

_Open up, enter in."_

As she continued to sing, the urge to dance that exists in all Cats swelled inside of her and she began a ballet routine that had been taught to her by her friend, Victoria. Coming to rest in the light of a street-lamp, she finished her song, and then gasped as a voice came from the nearby shadows.

"Brava," a pure black Jellicle said, stepping into the lamplight. "You have quite the voice."

Demeter's copious warnings about strange Toms all flashed through Jemima's mind at once and she backed away. "Who-who are you?" she stuttered.

"Ah, I haven't introduced myself. How rude of me," the Cat mewed primly, his coat coming alive with stars. "Please forgive me. I am Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat. And you are?"

Jemima stopped at the very edge of the ring of light. "I'm not supposed to tell strangers my name."

Mistoffelees sighed in disappointment. "Oh, well. I was merely asking to be polite. As a matter of fact, I am a great admirer of yours, Jemima."

The crimson kitten's eyes widened as the magician said her name. "H-how do y-you know who I a-am?" she stuttered. "I n-never told you m-my n-name!"

"I told you," Mistoffelees said. "I'm a Conjuring Cat. I just know things. I know that you admire the Rum Tum Tugger," a smoke-image of the Tugger appeared between the two Jellicles for a moment, "and I know that you love to sing. Myself, I enjoy dancing, and I am merely friends with Tugger."

"Tuggsie knows you?" Jemima asked, not noticing that the Conjurer grinned at the nickname, silently reminding himself to tease the Tugger about it.

"Yes, he does. Would you like to check that? I'll be here tomorrow night if you wish to meet. Go home; ask the Rum Tum Tugger if he knows me. Then come back if you so wish. I'll be here."

"Alright, I will," purred Jemima, intrigued by this most mysterious of Cats. Now that she looked, she could see that he was barely older than she was. Why would the Tugger be friends with such a young Jellicle?

Her thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Mistoffelees gave her a nod, leapt into the air, and disappeared in a shower of sparks. Jemima hurried home, looking over her shoulder the whole way and resolving to speak to no one save the Rum Tum Tugger about the Mysterious Mr. Mistoffelees.

=^..^=

The next day, Jemima hurried out of the house before her sister could even say 'Good morning.' On her way to the Yard, she stopped by the street-lamp the strange Cat had been under the night before. It looked deceptively normal in the daylight.

"The world's still here," the kitten whispered before continuing on her mission. Once at the Yard, she looked for the Tugger.

"Sorry, honey," Bombalurina told Jemima when she asked. "He's not here right now." So Jemima settled down on the tire to wait and meditate on her Ineffable Name.

Five minutes later, she had grown bored with her Ineffable Name and returned to the topic of Mr. Mistoffelees. Groaning in annoyance, she got up and paced around in circles.

"Why can't I get him out of my head?" she asked aloud.

"Who? My Tuggsie?" said a voice from behind her. Jemima turned to see Etcetera standing there with her usual Cheshire grin. "He should be around soon. He usually arrives at mid-day on Wednesdays."

"But only on Wednesdays?" Jemima asked sarcastically.

"Mhm!" confirmed Etcetera. "And he shows up early in the morning on Tuesdays, and late in the afternoon on Fridays."

"And I suppose you know what he eats for breakfast," said Jemima, still being sarcastic.

"Usually salmon," the calico kitten said. "Except on weekends, then he eats chicken."

Jemima began to ease away from Etcetera. "Okay, that's a little stalker-ish, even for a member of the fan-club," she said.

"It's not stalking!" Etcetera defended herself. "It's just…observing obsessively?"

"Yeah, sure," mewed Jemima. "You know that he likes Bomba, right?"

"I know," the calico sighed. "But maybe someday… I'll follow him until he loves me."

Jemima sighed, suddenly feeling sad. "Maybe…" she mewed, not wanting to hurt her friend's feelings. "In any case, he's not who I was thinking of."

"Really?" Etcetera looked surprised, as though it were a travesty for a female kitten to think of _anything _other than the Rum Tum Tugger. "Who was it, then?"

"A Cat that I met last night," Jemima told her. "He said that he knew the Tugger. He was dark and mysterious, and his coat sparkled like stars… What?" Etcetera was grinning at her in a different manner than she had been before.

"You like him," she purred, flicking her tail-tip back and forth.

"I do not!" Jemima yowled indignantly.

"Oh, is that so?" Etcetera asked. "'Why can't I get him out of my head?' sound familiar? He knows Tugger, you've been asking after Tugger. Why? Probably to ask about this Tom, right? Not to mention that-" Etcetera's voice became a simper and she put on a dazed expression. "'His coat sparkled like stars…' Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you don't like him?"

"It's not like that!" the crimson Princess protested. "His coat really did sparkle like it had stars or sparks in it! He said that he was a Conjuring Cat?"

"A Conjuring Cat?" the calico scoffed. "I've heard of Levitators, Vanishers and Psychics, but no Conjurers. It just isn't a kind of magic that Jellicles have!"

"Well, he said he was the Original Conjuring Cat," amended Jemima.

Etcetera looked as though she was about to answer, but then a silly grin spread over her face and she bounced to her feet. "Tugger!" she caterwauled. Turning back to Jemima, she gave her a look that said, 'We'll talk later' and scampered off to talk to her idol.

_Well, that was weird, _Jemima thought. _Cettie's not as out of it as everyone thinks she is, apparently._ Then she remembered what she came for, and quickly followed in the footprints of the young calico Princess.

…

The Rum Tum Tugger was a fast moving Cat when he wished, and so it was a while before Jemima caught up with him. When she did, he was seated on a junk-pile relating a (mostly fictional) story about the time he fought a wild gang of Bravo Cats and won.

"And then, as Grumbuskin reached for me…" he was saying, and Etcetera, Sillabub, Pettipaws and Electra were hanging on his every word as Victoria merely admired him. Jemima sat down nearby and waited for him to finish.

When he finally did end his bragging, Jemima squeezed her way through the group of adoring kittens to try and speak to Tugger. After a few minutes, he finally noticed her and helped her up next to him.

"You weren't trying to show off," he said. "You actually want to speak to me. Why is that?"

"You don't have to sound so shocked about it," Jemima muttered.

"Actually, babe, I do," the Tugger said. "No one and I mean _no one- _At least," he added thoughtfully, "no Queen or Princess ever wants to just _talk_ to the Rum Tum Tugger. They just want their allotment of attention from the Curious Cat. But you," he turned to face Jemima, "what do you want?"

"Well first," she said with a grin, "I want to know why everyone, even Etcetera, has been getting really deep with me lately."

"Alas!" Tugger mewed dramatically. "That is a question that not even I, in my infinite wisdom, can answer!" By this time, the other kittens had become bored and wandered off to play Tag.

"Infinite wisdom?" snorted Jemima, feeling slightly awkward about joking with the older Tom. "What infinite wisdom?" She giggled as the Tugger put on an offended face and shoved her jokingly, and then she became serious again. "Really though, my next question is important."

The Rum Tum Tugger leaned back with his paws behind his head. "Ask away sweetheart," he mewed. "I'll answer any question put to me- as long as it's not a question about who I love the most."

Jemima giggled again, and then mentally slapped herself for being an idiot. "Well," she said, straightening up. "I recently met a Cat who said he knows you, and I wanted to make sure before I spoke to him again."

Tugger raised an eyebrow and gestured for Jemima to go on, so she took in a deep breath and kept going. "I was just wondering…doyouknowacatnamedmistermistoffelees?" she said before she could lose her nerve.

The Curious Cat sat up and held up a paw. "Hang on, Princess. You were going so fast that I couldn't understand a word you were saying. Repeat that?"

Jemima steadied herself and tried again. "Do you know a Cat named Mr. Mistoffelees? He came up to me last night and tried to talk, but I told him that I didn't talk to Toms that I don't know, and he told me to ask you so-"

"Again, hang on," Tugger said, and Jemima blushed as she realized that she had been rambling. "Let me get a word in edgewise," Tugger continued. "So, Misto's talked to you?"

Jemima nodded. "Is he dangerous?" she asked.

"Of course he's dangerous!" Tugger meowed, startling Jemima. "Misto's dangerous, and Munkus's dangerous, and Bomba's dangerous, and I'm dangerous, and you- No don't interrupt. You're dangerous too. That's what it means to be a Jellicle. We're mean like a minx and lean like a lynx."

"Well, then, is he safe?" Jemima tried again, hoping that he was.

"Safe enough, I suppose," the Tugger mewled slowly. "He has the odd magical accident now and again, but there was never a Cat so clever as Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. He helped rescue your mum from the Hidden Paw. In fact, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but he brought you and your friends home when you got lost a few weeks back."

"Aw, see, I knew that it wasn't Growltiger and Griddlebone!" Jemima yowled. "Sillabub lied to me!"

Tugger let out a chuckle. "Is that what they told you? That doesn't even make sense!" He cleared his throat. "Anyway, it's fine. Go see Misto. He needs a friend besides me and that weirdo he hangs out with."

"Thanks, Tugger!" said Jemima. "I'll go do that."

=^..^=

That night, Jemima found herself alone in the lamplight, singing to the moon. "If you find it- the meaning of what happiness is- then a new life will begin."

Mr. Mistoffelees appeared in front of her with a puff of smoke. "Again, brava. You really are a lovely singer, Jemima. I assume that you spoke to the Rum Tum Tugger about me?"

"I did," confirmed Jemima. "He said you were safe, and that you need friends. What do you think?"

Mistoffelees smiled. "He knows me too well. Indeed, I have only one friend that is my age." Suddenly, he swept close to Jemima and whispered in her ear. "We're being watched."

"What?" the crimson Jellicle squeaked. "Who is it? Are we safe?"

"It's fine," the magician said with a Cheshire grin. "It's a friend of mine who wants to watch out for us. Act as though he isn't there, but don't do anything silly or he'll remark on it."

"Ooookay," said Jemima. "You have interesting friends. First the Tugger, and now this guy. Anyone else I should know about?"

"I have a complicated sort-of friendship going on with Coricopat and Tantomile," Mr. Mistoffelees smirked. "Also, I'm the one who gave Rumpleteazer her color-changing tap shoes."

"Coricopat and Tantomile…" Jemima mused. "That reminds me. Etcetera said that there are no Conjuring Cats, only Levitators, Vanishers and Psychics. So, what are you?"

The young Tom sighed. "People say that there are only three kinds of magical Cats. Well, they're wrong. All Cats possess some magic. For most, it's only the everyday kind that lets us hide quickly and quietly.

"Others have subtler abilities, like Skimbleshanks. He always knows what time it is and has a better understanding of humans than most of us. The Rum Tum Tugger has a sort of aura that makes him irresistible- Queens want him, and Toms want to be him. Exotica can blend into the background, etcetera." Now Mistoffelees was smiling. "You have latent powers as well, actually. They've been waking up recently."

"Really?" asked Jemima, forgetting about their mysterious watcher and moving closer to the Conjurer.

"Yes," Mr. Mistoffelees said. "You have a power to find out what is in a Cat's heart. Whether it is a song or a secret, you have the power to find it.

"Of course," he went on, "you will not be able to find my secrets. However, I will now tell you about the other kind of magic-"

"Hang on!" mewed Jemima. "You just issued a challenge. I'm going to find out your secret."

The magician's eyes flared for a moment with something like anxiety, but he quickly calmed himself and went on as though the Princess hadn't spoken. "The three kinds of normal magical Cats are Levitators, like the Hidden Paw and like your friend…Quaxo." At the name of her friend, Jemima's eyes narrowed for a moment.

"You look a little like him," she said, then stopped and thought. "Wait, Quaxo has magic? I didn't know."

"Indeed he does," said Mr. Mistoffelees with a nervous smile. "And the reason I look like him is because we share a mother. However, we do not see each other much. The second kind of magical Cat is the Vanisher, this is another ability that the Hidden Paw has, and it is shared by his compatriot, Pyewacket.

"And the last kind is the Psychic Cat. As you are familiar with Coricopat and Tantomile, I do not believe that I need explain that."

"Definitely not," Jemima shivered. "I've been around them way too much. Cori's okay by himself, but Tanti gives me the creeps!"

"She does that," Mistoffelees said wistfully. "They sort of share a personality, and Tantomile got a large portion of the negative traits. I've been working with them to rectify that. But enough of this, I'm supposed to be leading up to something. As I've been trying to say, I have added a fourth kind of magical Cat to the list!"

"Conjuring Cats, right?" asked Jemima. "It's not that hard to guess."

"But of course!" the Conjurer in question said with a flourish. "I am the Original Conjuring Cat. Conjurers combine weaker versions of all the other magical powers, and then add the abilities to conjure lightning and pull objects out of thin air!"

"That's cool," Jemima purred. "But, can we go back to the bit about me having magic? I don't think it's really sunk in yet."

"Oh, certainly," grinned Mr. Mistoffelees. "Rumpus? Would you be so kind as to show yourself?"

Jemima jumped against the magician. She had completely forgotten about their follower until now, and the large, black Cat that was emerging from the shadows was highly intimidating. He had silver markings outlining the shapes of his muscles, long hairs stood out at random from his pelt despite him being a shorthair, and his eyes blazed red.

"Who-who's th-this?" she stuttered to Mistoffelees.

"Allow me to introduce you," he said. "Rumpus, this is Jemima. Jemima- the Great RumpusCat: Vanquisher of Pollicles and Prosecutor of Pekes."

"Ch-charmed I'm s-sure," Jemima said, extending a paw to the large Tom.

"_Enchant, Mademoiselle," _the RumpusCat kissed the proffered paw as he spoke in a high-pitched voice that did not at all match his frightening appearance. "You Misto's new girlfriend?"

"No she is not my new girlfriend, you vulgar thing," Mr. Mistoffelees huffed. "She is merely a friend."

"Uh-huh," Rumpus nodded his head knowingly. "One minute they're friend-zoned, the next, you've got kittens to deal with!"

Mistoffelees sighed and turned to Jemima. "Please, forgive him," he said. "He means well, but where most Cats have a filter between their mind and their mouth, he has a water-slide."

"It's all right," Jemima said. "I'm just wondering what this has to do with me having magic."

"Well," Mr. Mistoffelees said with a Cheshire smile, "Rumpus here is actually a kitten that you know!"

"What?" gasped Jemima. "But, he's huge!"

"I know!" the RumpusCat said. "It was a complete accident on Misto's-"

"Mistoffelees," the Conjurer corrected.

"On Misto's part!" finished Rumpus. "He meant to just make me a little stronger and braver so that I could fight, but a Pollicle surprised him-"

"And I accidentally removed all his inhibitions and turned him into this," Mr. Mistoffelees groused. "Complete mistake. I've gotten much better at magic since then. Anyway," he continued, glaring at the RumpusCat, "I'd like to know if Rumpus would like to let someone know his secret identity?"

"Oh, sure, I'll tell her," said the RumpusCat. "I'm actually Jennyanydots!" he whispered, bending over Jemima as though he were confiding a great secret.

"No way in the Basement," Jemima said, eying him oddly and wondering why her sister was trying to start a fan-club for this clown. "Jenny's a Queen and you're a Tom. Would you just answer Mr. Mistoffelees' question?"

"Yeah, sure," Rumpus purred. "Misto's my sidekick-"

Mistoffelees coughed in irritation. "I'm _your _sidekick?"

"And his girlfriend should know who I am!" Rumpus continued. "So, yeah, shoot. Guess. Whatever it is you're gonna do, do it."

"What is it that I am doing?" asked Jemima.

"Just see if you can find his secret," ordered Mr. Mistoffelees. "Everlasting Cat knows that it's his only one with that motor-mouth running all the time!"

"I do not have a motor-mouth!" the RumpusCat defended. "It's much more of an engine-mouth!"

Jemima giggled and placed a paw on the RumpusCat's forehead. Thinking about how Coricopat had explained his magic when she asked him, she tried to push a piece of herself into the super-Jellicle's mind. What she found there sent her reeling back.

"Why do you have a shrine to my sister in your head?" she asked angrily. And then the reality of who the RumpusCat was hit her. "Wait. Wiscus? Is that you?"

"Urgh, yeah. It's me," Rumpus said. "No need to get all weird about it!"

Jemima's eyes widened. "He can change back, right?" she asked, turning to Mr. Mistoffelees. "That would be awful if he couldn't!"

"Jem, it's okay," Wiscus said, tapping her on the shoulder. "I can change back, see?"

The crimson kitten turned to see her friend standing before her in his normal shape.. She jumped on the grey, tabby Tom and nuzzled his cheek. "That's so weird! Have you told Sillabub?" A frown came over her face and she stepped back. "Sillabub. Why do you have a shrine to my sister in your head?"

Wiscus looking down at his toes and shuffling his paws told her everything she needed to know.

"Alright, Wiscus, you can head home now," Mistoffelees said. "Jemima, it will be morning soon, time for you to go."

The young Tom scurried off into the dark, but Jemima stayed behind. "That's pretty cool, how you made Wiscus a super-hero," she said. "You know that Munkustrap's writing a play based on him?"

"I do indeed know," Mr. Mistoffelees smiled. "He actually spoke to the RumpusCat himself about making an appearance. It's based on something that actually happened, you know."

"Really?" asked Jemima, raising an eyebrow. "You'll have to tell me about it."

"I will sometime," the Conjurer said, settling into a more business-like demeanor. "But, now, however, I need to speak about your magic for a moment."

"What about it?" Jemima said.

"You tried to use it like a Psychic Cat," explained Mistoffelees. "If you do that, you'll hurt yourself. Just let it come to you normally, alright, Jemima?"

"Alright," the Princess agreed. "I guess I should go now?"

"Yes, you should," Mistoffelees said. "I bid you a very fond farewell. Perhaps we could speak again?"

"Sure, Mistoffelees," Jemima said, turning to leave. "We could do that." As she walked away, she stopped as though she had had a thought and turned back to the magician. "By the way," she said, "I like you better as a tux. See you later, Quaxo."

With those words, she ran off giggling, leaving Quaxo behind, black draining from his face and chest, all alone in the lamplight, withered leaves collecting at his feet as the wind began to moan.

...

**AN: First off, I don't know who wrote 'Memory,' just that it wasn't T.S. Eliot, which is why we get where it comes from instead.**

**Second, I don't know why people don't ship Jemima and Quaxo. Do you see her face when Mr. Mistoffelees hands her that scarf?**

**Also, RumpusCat. I had to include him and the Tugger. Tugger got too deep for me in this one, but I guess that's Jemima's powers at work.**

"**I'll follow him until he loves me." I did not plan to put this in here at first, but then Etcetera started getting all cute and argh! I feel sorry for her. I'll have to write about her now.**

**Oh, and Pyewacket is apparently a reference to a movie called 'Bell, Book and Candle.' My mom said it was a Witch-Cat's name and I thought that it was very Eliot sounding. His original name was Luxikurse, who might still show up as a different Cat.**

**Starting this week, I'm going on a short hiatus. I have an idea for an Avengers fic and want to work on that for a while. It's called 'Inalienable' and the first chapter should be up now. Sorry loyal readers. Be back once that's done.**

**Review or Jemima will follow you and rip your darkest secrets from your mind and shout them to the world. (Also, I'll send you some of RumpusCat's shed fur if you do. He wants more fangirls.)**

**-Predator**


	8. Chapter 8

**It's kind of ironic that no one reviewed the one where I thanked people for reviews. I guess that you all don't like Jemima and Misto? Was it the RumpusCat that put people off? Etcetera? My long-winded explanation of my version of Jellicle magic? Con-crit is appreciated!**

**This chapter marks the first chronological appearance of Quaxo as Mr. Mistoffelees in this story so far. Also adds to my Growltiger stuff. Also, Macavity does still have a Cockney accent; he just stops using it around Griddlebone and now Demeter as well. Unnerving, you know.**

Demeter: The Tortured Cat

(Part Two)

"_When the loss has been discovered, the Secret Service say: 'It _must _have been Macavity!'- But he's a mile away. You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs, or engaged in doing complicated long division sums."_

_~Macavity: The Mystery Cat, _by T.S. Eliot.

…

Munkustrap sighed. Demeter had refused to speak to him since he had brought his friend, Macavity, to the Junkyard. He couldn't blame her, really. First he had brought a Cat that looked almost exactly like her former mate and captor to the Yard, and then he had hugged her before she was really ready. Once again, he couldn't blame her.

"Hey, Munkus!" someone called. The Jellicle Protector sighed. His brother, the Rum Tum Tugger, had come to visit. He was the only one that called Munkustrap 'Munkus'.

"Yes, Rum-Tum?" he asked sweetly, using the Tugger's kitten-hood nickname (which he hated). "Is there a dilemma?"

"Yup!"Tugger yowled. Munkustrap turned to look at him. Tugger really did look perturbed. His face was screwed up and his collar was askew. Not to mention that he didn't have his usual army of Princesses following him.

"Well, what is it, then?" asked Munkustrap. "Is it serious?"

"Well, only if you call two Mystery Cats asking to speak to you 'serious.'"

Munkustrap was on his way to the Vicarage Entrance before the Tugger had finished speaking.

When he got there, he instantly recognized the duo. Scratch and Mephisto had been to the Yard before, looking for…

Munkustrap gulped. They had been looking for the Napoleon of Crime's mate, who had turned out to be Demeter. They hadn't had her then, but now she was staying in Jennyanydots' home-away-from-home- an upturned bathtub in a corner of the Junkyard.

"Good day, gents. How may I help you?" he asked politely. There was still the possibility that they didn't know about Demeter and were looking for something else. Sometimes Cats would turn up and ask if they could root through the junk-piles for something useful.

"Ya knows what we wants," Scratch said. "Bring out Demetah." Well, so much for it possibly being something else.

"I'm very sorry, but Demeter is indisposed," Munkustrap mewed primly. There was no point in pretending she wasn't there. No one knew how the Hidden Paw got his information, but it was always completely accurate. "Would you gentlemen mind coming back some other time?"

"I'm afraid not," Mephisto purred softly. "It's really rather important that we speak to her, you see."

Munkustrap hated Mephisto. If there was one Jellicle that could outdo him in manners, it was Mephisto, or maybe Bustopher Jones. Munkustrap never could make up his mind about that.

Suddenly, a yowling was heard from the Yard and Munkustrap spun around, cursing the Hidden Paw to the Fell. Across the Yard, a third hench-Cat was dragging Demeter from her den. Munkustrap recognized the fairly notorious Jellicle at once- Pyewacket, a Cat renowned for his teleportation abilities.

"Demeter!" Munkustrap yowled before he was jumped on by the distraction. "Tugger, help!" As he tried to fight off Mephisto and Scratch, he saw the Tugger race across the Junkyard and realized that it was too late. Pyewacket's fur was starting to glow.

The Rum Tum Tugger pounced on empty air as the hench-Cat disappeared with Demeter in tow. As soon as Pyewacket was gone, the other two released Munkustrap and ran off with their tails between their legs.

Munkustrap raced over to where Deme had vanished and began to scrape at the ground in a panic. "Can we bring her back?" he gasped. "Could Coricopat or Tantomile bring her back?"

The Tugger brushed his tail over Munkustrap's shoulder. "Sorry, Munkus," he mewled. "She's gone. We'll have to find her ourselves."

Munkustrap straightened up with a determined look on his face. "Fine," he said. "I'll find her if I have to tear down all of London. Are you with me?"

"Sure," Tugger shrugged. Munkustrap had been dragging him off on quests since they were kittens. This one had a more serious objective, but otherwise was about par for the course. "Will you let me get something first?"

"No," Munkustrap growled. "We're leaving now."

The Rum Tum Tugger smiled. "It'll only take a minute. He should be close by…"

…

"No," Quaxo hissed. "He'll recognize me."

"And would that be so terrible?" asked Tugger. "You've got to let someone know eventually!"

"No. I don't," the Conjuring Cat ground out. "I don't have to do anything you tell me. I don't have to let anyone know, and I don't have to find Demeter. That's Munkustrap's problem."

"C'mon, bud?" the Tugger said, making big-eyes at Quaxo. "For me, Misto?"

"I hate it when you do the kitten-eyes," Quaxo said, sighing in resignation.

"So is that a yes?" Tugger asked.

"Yes, it is. Now, don't push it," said Mr. Mistoffelees, his fur starting to sparkle. "Give me a minute to disguise myself."

…

"Let go of me!" Demeter yowled as she and Beezle landed in knee-deep sewer water. "Let go of me, you ruddy Pollicle! I'll curse you with Bell, Book and Candle if you don't!"

"Stop," a deep voice echoed, and Demeter froze as horrible memories rushed in on her. Standing in the entrance of the pipe was the Napoleon of Crime himself.

"Na-napoleon," Deme stuttered. "N-nice t-to see you ag-again."

"Napoleon, hah!" the Hidden Paw muttered. "That ain't mah real name, it ain't." He turned to his hench-Cat. "Git out o' 'ere, 'Wacket."

Pywacket got out of there. When the Napoleon of Crime gave an order, Hench-Cats jumped. It wasn't that he was a cruel boss. If he was, no one would have worked for him. It was simply that he was a very intimidating Jellicle Cat that nobody really wanted to get angry.

The Hidden Paw's voice changed to become smooth and cultured. "Allow me, your mate, to introduce myself," he said, rubbing in the fact that they had been mated and she hadn't known his true name. "Napoleon was but an affectation. My real Particular Name is Macavity."

"Macavity…" whispered Demeter, remembering the day he had visited the Junkyard. Her head shot up. "Munkustrap!" Did he know? Was he-

Macavity laughed. "That fool? Day after day, he lived just next door to me. He never figured out that I, Professor, Macavity, next-door neighbor of the Jellicle Protector, am the Napoleon of Crime!" He laughed again, a deep, cold laugh. "Truly, my dear, is there anyone like me?"

"Y-you're a fiend," Deme said quietly. "You l-lied t-to me f-for y-years."

The Hidden Paw's face twisted in a scowl. "I would not say such things if I were you!" he yowled. His claws shot out.

Demeter screamed.

…

Munkustrap's claws dug into the ground as he paced back and forth. "Tugger, if your friend doesn't show up in the next _minute, _we are leaving without him."

"Have no fear. I am here," a quiet voice said in a sing-song manner from just beside Munkustrap's ear. The silver tabby whirled around, back arched, to face the source of the voice.

Standing before him was a small, pure black Jellicle with blue eyes, his fur visibly glowing with magic. Cocking his head to the side, the black Cat sighed.

"Really, with the claws?" he sniffed. "We can't have a proper introduction?" Bowing, he flicked his tail down in submission to Munkustrap. "I am Mr. Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat."

"There can be no doubt about that!" the Tugger rhymed with a Cheshire grin. Mistoffelees shot him a glare as his claws sparked, and Tugger wisely fell silent.

"If you're a Conjuring Cat," Munkustrap asked cautiously, "can you bring back Demeter?"

"Alas, no." Mr. Mistoffelees purred. "I am not advanced enough to conjure living beings. But," he said, putting up a paw to stop Munkustrap's protests, "I can find her, or find someone who knows where she is. Can you show me where she was taken from, and tell me who took her?"

"Of course,"Munkustrap said, leading the Conjurer to the patch of torn earth where Demeter had vanished. "It was Pyewacket the Vanisher. He pulled her out of her den, there," He pointed to the upturned tub, "and then he disappeared from right here."

Mr. Mistoffelees sniffed around the bathtub and torn patch of ground. Magic sparkled from his paws into the spot the two Jellicles had vanished from. As the sparks hit the ground, ghostly forms of the two Cats appeared. Demeter scratched at Pyewacket and then they vanished again.

"Hmm," Mr. Mistoffelees purred. "That's odd."

"What's odd?" the Rum Tum Tugger asked. "Is there a problem?"

"A slight one," said the Conjurer. "I cannot sense where he disappeared to. He must be a very powerful Vanisher indeed, to evade my senses. I'll have to see if I can find anyone who knows where he may have gone."

Again placing his paw to the Vanishing Point, Mistoffelees concentrated. Suddenly, his head shot up.

"Mungojerrie!" he exclaimed. "Mungojerrie knows where the Hidden Paw's lair is. Find the robber-Cat."

"Consider it done," Munkustrap said, running off to find the notorious thief.

"See if you can do it without alerting his father or sisters!" Mr. Mistoffelees called after him. "They don't know that he knows."

"Really?" asked Tugger, with no small amount of interest. "Has 'Jerrie been working for the Mystery Cats, then? I didn't have him pegged as the type."

"How should I know?" Mistoffelees asked. "I'm not psychic."

"No, that's what…"

"…we're here for" Coricopat and Tantomile said, arriving on the scene. "We sensed a large…

"…amount of magic being used and thought…"

"…that we should investigate. We hope that…"

"…you don't mind too much."

Mr. Mistoffelees glanced between them with a bemused expression. "I know that you don't always talk like that," he said. "You don't have to try and scare me."

Coricopat laughed and Tantomile glared at him. "Thanks, Quaxo," he said. "Tanti just likes to try and frighten the others."

Mistoffelees' eyes widened. "How did you know that I'm Quaxo?" he hissed, looking to see if anyone had heard.

Tantomile gave a thin smile. "We're grimalkins, remember? We can see your mind, your innermost secrets and desires."

The Conjurer narrowed his eyes and began to put up shields in his mind. Tantomile smashed through them, grasping at his memories and getting closer and closer to his worst memory- the night his mother abandoned him.

Suddenly, he felt another presence in his mind, building his shields back up. Glancing at Coricopat, he saw the dark Cat give him a smile.

"That's enough, Tanti," Coricopat hissed. "We don't want to break him, do we?"

"I suppose not," she admitted, and Mr. Mistoffelees could feel her withdraw from his mind. "He could be…useful," she added.

Just then, Munkustrap arrived with Mungojerrie, and the Mystical Twins went back into their careful synchronization.

"Wot did I do?" Mungojerrie was asking. "I ain't done nothin' wrong recently, I ain't even stolen nothin' for days!"

"I am absolutely sure," Munkustrap answered, "that you certainly haven't stolen nothing for days. Didn't Jenny ever teach you not to use double negatives?" he continued. "It reverses the whole meaning of your sentence. You just told me that you have been stealing for days. Ah, here we are!" He turned to Mistoffelees. "You said that you needed this young hooligan?"

"I did," the Conjurer mewed, sitting and curling his tail around his toes. "As I said, he knows the location of the Hidden Paw's lair."

Predictably, the young Cat Burglar launched into a series of protests. "I don't know no 'Idden Paw! 'Ow would I know where 'is 'eadquarters is at?"

"I was hoping that you would tell me," said Mr. Mistoffelees. "I merely sensed in your mind that you knew."

"Garn!" Mungojerrie spat rudely. "There ain't no way you could do that!"

"Negatives again," Munkustrap sighed.

"The Conjurer may not be able to find out everything from you…" Coricopat said.

"…but we can," Tantomile finished. "In fact, we can find out anything we want."

Together, the two psychic Jellicles reached into Mungojerrie's mind to find the location they needed. As they did so, the thief froze, paled, and began to squirm. Coricopat's eyes widened at the defense the inexperienced Cat was putting up. After a bit, however, the twins retracted their minds from Mungojerrie's with most of the answers they needed.

"He does know the location," Coricopat said. "However…"

"…he was able to hide it from us," continued Tantomile. "There is a complication, though."

"The Mystery Cats have him steal things for them," said Coricopat. "His family doesn't know, and at first it was harmless…"

"…but now they have someone watching Etcetera to make sure he doesn't betray them," Tantomile finished, making the Rum Tum Tugger gasp.

"They're stalking one of my Princesses?" he asked.

"Didn' know ya cared so much, player!" Mungojerrie hissed. "I watch out fer my sis'er an' do wot I haff ta. You jist play aroun' all day!"

The Tugger's mane bristled in anger and his claws shot out. "I may joke around with the Princesses, but don't you _ever _accuse me of-"

"Enough!" Munkustrap said, pushing himself between the snarling Cats. "There is a place for anger, but it is not here! We are going to stop the Hidden Paw from harming anyone else. He has Demeter, and I, for one, refuse to rest until she is safely back here in the Junkyard! Are you all with me?"

There were yowls of agreement. Mungojerrie hesitated for a moment, but, seeing a chance to help his family, eventually lifted his voice with the others. Munkustrap smiled and gestured for silence.

"Alright," he said, "here's what we'll do…"

…

Macavity dragged Demeter down the pipes of his sewer lair. Thankfully, he had so far only threatened, and done her no harm. Taking her to a grating, he opened it up to reveal a small room with boards laid over the floor so that anyone inside would remain dry. The sole occupant of the room was a Persian Queen a few years older than Macavity.

"Demeter, this is Lady Griddlebone," the Hidden Paw said, pushing Deme into the room. "Griddlebone- Demeter. She will be staying with you, understand?"

Griddlebone rose to her feet and fixed Macavity with an icy look. "I'm not quite an imbecile, my dear," she said. "I understand perfectly."

"Many thanks, dearest," mewed Macavity, stepping forward and nuzzling Griddlebone's cheek. "I have work to do now, but I'll see you later."

"Later, then, darling," Griddlebone purred, returning the gesture. "Until then, I'll watch the prisoner."

"Thanks again," Macavity said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, the Persian spun to face Demeter.

"I don't care what you used to be to him!" she hissed, face twisted in a snarl. "He's mine now, so stay away!"

"You can have him!" Deme gasped, backing against the wall. "I don't want anything to do with him!"

Instantly, Griddlebone began grinning like a Cheshire Cat and bouncing up and down like a kitten. "Oh, well that's alright then!" she squealed. "We're going to have such fun together! I'll do your fur, and you'll have to help me with mine. It gets all tangled because it's so long. It's a curse, really. And then-"

"No, you don't understand," Demeter said, poking the soft cat-bed at the end of the room. "I can't stay here. I don't belong here!"

"Oh," Griddlebone drooped. "I- Well, I guess I should have expected that, you know? There aren't that many Queens around, and those that are, are like that Bombalurina that was around until recently."

"Bomba's my friend!" protested Demeter. "She's the one who got me out of here originally…"

"Well…" the Lady wanted to be friends with this Cat, but she wasn't making it easier. "We could see if some of the Toms want to talk? A few of them are all right."

Demeter's eyes widened and she curled up again. "No Toms, thanks!" she squeaked.

"Can they at least stand outside and talk to me?" Griddlebone asked. "You have no idea how boring it is around here-"

"I used to work here," Deme pointed out.

"Yes, but you were a thief, not a Lady," Griddlbone said dismissively. "I remember that you were a good thief, but still, there's not much for a Lady to do around here. Anyway," she went on, "not all the Toms are as bad as Scratch and Pyewacket. You should know that. So, there's this one guy called Mungojerrie who stops by sometimes-"

"Wait, Mungojerrie?" asked Demeter.

"You know that's the second time you've interrupted me?" said Griddlebone. "But yeah, Mungojerrie. He's a Calico, about so tall with a hilarious Cockney accent like the one my Maccy uses around the underlings."

Demeter cringed at Macavity's name, but bravely pushed on. "But look, I know a Mungojerrie. He lives at the Junkyard with his sisters. Oh! The Junkyard! Silla and Jem must be worried sick!"

"Who are Silla and Jem?" the Persian asked. "Friends of yours?"

"My kittens," Deme mewed sitting down on the cat-bed. "Sillabub and Jemima. My daughters, but not his," she said resolutely. "They'll never be his if I can help it!"

Griddlebone was slightly unstable since the death of Growltiger, and she did have an odd attraction to bad boys, but she was not an evil Cat at heart. She did have a conscience, and it did not always agree with what her mate did. When she heard that Macavity had taken Demeter away from her kittens, her heart went out to the wretched Queen.

"Fine, look," she said. "I'll see if I can get you out of here…"

…

**AN: Terrible stopping point, I know, but it was getting too long. This is going to end up being at least a three-part story arc. Sorry.**

**What do you think of my characterization of the Lady GRIDDLEBONE? Did you concentrate your attention on her, or was she boring or stupid?**

**Oh, and sorry about the OCs. I hope they weren't terrible. I just needed names for the three hench-cats in the movie. Scratch is an old nickname for the devil, Mephisto is short for Mephistopheles, the devil from Faust (whom Mr. Mistoffelees is also named after), and Pyewacket is apparently a reference to a movie. My mom supplied that name.**

**Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys are lucky. I'm finished and on the computer now so you get this a little early.**

**This could be considered the beginning of the end in a way, even though it is almost certainly the earliest chronologically.**

**Also, I suppose that the pet-shop in this chapter is more of a supplies store than a store that sells pets. It wouldn't make much sense, otherwise.**

Wicked Deeds

"_And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known (I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone) are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!"_

_~Macavity: The Mystery Cat, _by T.S. Eliot.

…

Cassie looked up from her book in the sitting room of Number Four Victoria Grove. "Did you hear something?" she asked her dad. A moment before, the thirteen-year-old girl had thought she had heard the pitter-patter of little paws going past the doorway.

"I don't hear anything," her father, Mr. Grant, said. "What did it sound like?"

"Like tiny little feet," said Cassie, listening again. "I think that the kitties might have come home at last!" She grinned and stood up from her copy of _The Lord of the Rings. _"Here, kitty!" she called. "Where are you?"

_Smash! _Went the dining room!

_Crash! _Came from the downstairs pantry!

_ Ping! _Resounded from the library!

Mr. Grant stood and looked at Cassie. "It's that horrible cat!" they said together, remembering just why they had been so happy that their cats had left in the first place. Cassie was suddenly very glad that her mother was out.

"It was Felonious!" she said, referring to the male kitten, whose name was a pun on 'Thelonious,' as in 'Thelonious Monk,' the jazz musician.

_"And _Miss Demeanor!" her father added, turning slightly red at the thought of his precious Ming vase (it wasn't really, but it was nice to pretend) lying smashed on the rug.

The father and daughter ran upstairs to see their two calico cats vanishing out of the window. "Well," sighed Cassie, "I suppose there's nothing much we can do about it."

"But how did they make all that noise in three rooms at once?" Mr. Grant asked.

They never did find out.

=^..^=

"Oh ho!" laughed Felonious, also known as Mungojerrie. "Did ya see their faces, 'Teaza? Did ya? They'll never figger out 'ow we did it!"

"I'm still not sure 'ow we did it, an' I was there!" Miss Demeanor, otherwise known as Rumpleteazer, giggled. "So, wot'd ya get? I got a new string o' pearls!" She pulled them out of her bag and tied them around her neck, removing the old ones.

"I got some sort o' clock-ish thing," 'Jerrie said, pulling a pedometer out of his bag and looking at it oddly. "It only 'as one 'and, though, so it ain't no use ta Da'." He thrust it back in the sack with a scowl. "We git anythin' ta eat?"

"Let me check," said 'Teazer, poking through her bag. "Uh, we got a bit o' beef, an' some cabbage."

"Cabbage?" asked 'Jerrie. "Of all tha things in that pantry, ya had ta grab the _cabbage? _Why'd ya do that?"

"Well, I dunno!" the calico Princess protested. "Bus'opher Jones says it's good! I figgered 'e'd know! Wot's the matter wid cabbage, any'ow?"

"I don' like green food," 'Jerrie said, crossing his arms. "It's nasty, it is."

Rumpleteazer giggled and began walking towards the Junkyard with her sack over her shoulder. "Well, yer gonna hafta deal with it," she lectured. "Food's 'ard enough ta find as it is, without ya t'rowin' away perfec'ly good cabbage!"

It was true. There was a famine amongst the Cats of London. For some reason, it had grown harder and harder to find food, and many a Jellicle was going to bed at night with an empty belly. Despite disapproving of the way they got it, many of the Junkyard Cats had become very appreciative of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer's abilities to supply them with a meal.

"Cabbage ain't perfec'ly good!" complained Mungojerrie. "It's just sort o' slimy. Can't we try ta find somethin' I like?" Just then, he noticed a black Cat across the street beckoning to him. Intrigued, he decided to investigate. "Ya know what, 'Teaza? Yew go on ahead. I'll try an' find summat I like."

"Okay!" said Rumpleteazer, already speeding up her pace. "See ya later, 'Jer!"

"See ya later," 'Jerrie muttered before crossing the street. "Wot do ya want?" he asked the strange Jellicle.

"My name is Beezle," the shaggy, black Cat said in a Scottish accent akin to that belonging to Mungojerrie's father, Skimbleshanks. "Are ye having trouble finding food, laddie boy?"

"Ya could say that," said 'Jerrie, slightly wary of the other Tom. "Only as much as everyone is, ya know?"

"Aye, I do," Beezle mewed. "But ye see, me and my lads have more food than we need, ye ken? So, if ye were willing to do a wee job for us, we might be willing to part with some of it."

"So, I do summat for you, an' you pay me in vittles?" Mungojerrie confirmed. When the other Tom nodded, he nodded back. "Soun's good ta me. Wot's the job?"

"Well, it's a job o' a sensitive nature, ye see," said Beezle, looking around to see if they were being overheard. "My boss, Napoleon, wants a certain object, and I dinnae ha'e anyone who can get it." He put his arm around 'Jerrie's shoulder and began walking him down the pavement. "So, I'd heard o' the notorious Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, and I said tae meself, 'Beezle, that 'Jerrie sounds like a great Cat Burglar. Why don't ye see if ye cannae get him tae get it, since ye have nobody good enough.'"

"Well, I reckon as I am the best Cat Burglar there is!" Mungojerrie said proudly, squaring his shoulders. "So, wot's this thing ya want me ta get?"

"It's a jeweled collar in a fancy pet-shop 'round the corner," said the dark Jellicle. "My boss wants tae give it tae an old friend o' his. Ye'll be assigned a partner for the heist, and if it goes off fine, ye'll get as much food as ye can carry in that bag o' yours."

"Wot're we waitin' fer?" asked 'Jerrie. "Let's get goin'! Where's me partner?"

"Right 'round here," Beezle said, leading the calico into a dark alley. Three other Cats were huddled in the shadows. A black-and-gold Queen, and two black Toms. "This is Scratch and Mephisto," Beezle pointed to the Toms, "and this is the lovely Demeter," he said with a smile, gesturing to the Queen. "She'll be your partner today, ye ken?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mungojerrie!" said Demeter, stepping forward with a grin. "I've heard so much about you. You're quite good really, despite being a kitten." She held up a paw to stop the protests sputtering from the young thief. "I mean, you're a bit ostentatious, but we could train you out of that."

"Wot's ossenashus?" asked 'Jerrie. "I've never 'eard that word afore. 'Sit bad?"

"Yes," Demeter said bluntly. "It means that you're noisy and sloppy. I'm going to teach you to be a proper Cat Burglar. Now," she gave a Cheshire grin, "let's go get that collar!"

=^..^=

Mephisto sat next to Beezle, watching Demeter and 'Jerrie case the pet-shop. "Are you quite certain that this is a good idea, sir?" he asked. "It seems to be a lot of risk for a very small reward."

"O' course it's a good idea!" Beezle hissed. "Are ye questioning the Hidden Paw? He wants this collar, and this collar he shall have!"

"That's all well and good, sir," protested Mephisto, "but why the Yardie? What purpose does this 'Mungojerrie' serve?"

"Fall guy," Beezle said with a shrug. "If the Police Dog catches them, Deme can escape and the young un can take the rap. Contrariwise, if they pull it off and he's any good, we might be able tae train him, ye ken?"

"Oh, yes, I 'ken' sure enough," Mephisto mewed, rolling his eyes at the Scot's grammar. "And what does Napoleon have to say about this?"

"Napoleon says that he could be…useful," grinned Beezle, baring his fangs.

=^..^=

Demeter yawned and blinked slowly as she surveyed the young Tom in front of her. He was practically bouncing to get going. He had almost no finesse and his main redeeming feature was a love of causing trouble and too much notoriety. The perfect fall guy.

"So, wot do we do, Miss Demetah?" Mungojerrie asked. "We gonna break in the winder? That's wot I'd do." This was the chance of a lifetime for him! Not only was he working with professional Cat Burglars, they were even going to pay him for it! It was a dream come true. Too bad Rumpleteazer wasn't here to share it with him. Or maybe even Etcet- no. She was still mad that she hadn't been adopted.

"Well, first we're going to stop making noise," mewed Demeter. "Noise attracts attention, and the last thing we want is for Scotland Yard to be all over us."

"I t'ought Scotland Yard was fer the humans?" said 'Jerrie, feeling confused.

Deme sighed. "There's also a dog version. If the Police Dogs catch us, we'll be dead, so shut up, understand?" She hated it when kittens made a lot of noise on a job. Mungojerrie may have just been there to take the blame if something went wrong, but there was an equal chance that it would go right and he would end up being trained.

Finally, the light in the pet-shop clicked off just as the street-lamps clicked on. A man stepped out of the door and locked it. "It's show-time," Demeter said with a grin.

The two Cats ran hell-for-leather across the street to the alley behind the pet-store, where they jimmied the lock on the window and slipped inside. Padding through the back room, they entered the shop proper and looked around.

'Jerrie's stomach growled at the sight of the pet-food lining the shelves. "Any chance we could take some o' this wid us?" he asked hopefully.

"Not now," Deme whispered. "If this works out, maybe we can come back sometime and pull a big heist. Right now, we're only here for the collar."

The calico kitten sighed in defeat. "Alrigh'," he said. "We'll see if'n we can git back 'ere sometime." He turned and walked up towards the front window where the exquisite collar was on display. "I'll get it, ya can keep a lookout," he said.

That was fine with Demeter, as it meant that if a Police Dog happened past, he would see Mungojerrie taking the collar and not her. She jumped up onto the window-ledge and lay down so as to be inconspicuous. As she watched for danger, 'Jerrie climbed up the the box holding the collar and began to try and remove the lid.

"Blast!" he muttered after several attempts. "Ruddy thing's locked!"

Demeter sighed. "Of _course _it's locked!" she said, turning to look at the calico. "Just sort of jimmy it with your claw."

"I can't," said Mungojerrie. "My claw's too big! Can ya do it for me? Please?"

"Fine," the gold Queen said, rolling her eyes. She got up and climbed to where the collar was being kept. "I'll just do both our jobs, then."

She sprang a claw free from her pad and inserted it into the lock. As she attempted to break it, Mungojerrie watched with interest. The two of them were so engrossed in their task that they forgot to watch the window, and so neither of them noticed the German shepherd coming down the street.

This particular German shepherd, stereotypically named 'Fido,' was an irritable, old Police Dog with a dislike for Cats after his many years of chasing them off of other people's property. So, when he saw two of them in pet-shop attempting to lift a handsome, jeweled collar, he sounded the alarm loudly!

When they heard the barking, Demeter and Mungojerrie almost jumped out of their respective coats. "Fergit the colla'!" said 'Jerrie, "let's jist git out o' here!"

"Hang on!" Demeter said, twisting her claw in the lock. They may have been caught, but at least she would go down following orders. "Got it!" she said as the lock popped open. "Let's go!"

The two Jellicle Cats jumped down from the window and ran through the store. Jumping out of the same window they had entered through, they were extremely disappointed to find that Fido had called for backup, and it had arrived in the form of two huskies.

"What have we got here, Caesar?" one of them asked the other.

"Looks like a couple of Cat-Burglars to me, Lucky," Caesar said back. "Think we should turn 'em in?"

"Let's have some fun with them, first," Lucky said. "That calico looks tasty to me." He licked his chops in anticipation.

The Pollicles advanced, backing the Cats into a corner. Mungojerrie raised his hackles and yowled. "Run, Deme!" he said, throwing himself into Caesar's face with his claws out.

"No arguments from me," she muttered, turning to try and sneak past the two dogs. However, Lucky spotted her slinking away and jumped on her. "Help!" she yowled.

Mungojerrie was still fighting Caesar, oblivious to what was going on around him. "This'll teach ya ta mess wid a Cat from Ol' Deuteronomy's tribe!" he hissed, gnawing on the Pollicle's ear.

"Old Deuteronomy?" gasped Caesar. He quickly ceased all hostilities and did his best to remove the spitting, clawing ball of fur from himself without doing 'Jerrie any harm. "Hey, Lucky, it's all right! These two are from Ol' Deut's tribe!"

"Ol' Deut's tribe?" said Lucky, letting Demeter go. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked. "All of us dogs are friends of Ol' Deut's!"

Demeter was now thoroughly confused. "Oh?" she asked. "Why's that, then?"

Caesar's tongue lolled out of his mouth as 'Jerrie finally stopped trying to scratch his eyes out. "Well, all of our masters like him," he said. "Anyway, he's just such a _nice _chap, isn't he?"

"He really is!" Lucky said. "I don't even mind it if he sits right in the middle of the street. I'd make sure he doesn't get run over." He gave the two Cat-Burglars a look. "You two can run along this time. Consider it a warning from Scotland Yard. You won't get off so easily next time."

"Yis, sir!" said Mungojerrie, picking up the dropped collar and leaving the alley as quickly as possible, Demeter hurrying at his heels.

=^..^=

Later, he found himself in another alley, in front of a sewer grate and feeling uneasy. "Lissen," he said, "jist lemme go, an' I'll come back some other time, alrigh'?"

"Ye fulfilled yer part o' the deal," Beezle answered. "Let me fulfill mine. C'mon in. The Hidden Paw'll want tae see ye."

Scratch lifted the grating easily with an enormous paw, and the five Jellicles slipped down into the pipes. Once inside, they walked for quite a while through disgusting water until they reached an area where boards had been laid down to provide some sort of floor.

"Where are we?" asked Mungojerrie, glancing around at the candles casting a gloomy light across the wall.

"We are at the entrance to the lair of the Mystery Cats," Mephisto answered. "This is where we hide from Scotland Yard, and others who wish to oppose us."

"So, why's the floor start 'ere?" 'Jerrie questioned.

"To put people off, of course," said Mephisto. "Anyone looking for this place, if they somehow managed to find the right sewer grate, would very likely have given up before now. If they hadn't, then we have guards."

Just as e was saying this, one of the aforementioned guards stepped out of an alcove. "Password?" he asked. "Anything to declare, or- ah- any_one?" _he said, leering at Mungojerrie through heterochromatic eyes.

In fact, the whole Cat was odd-looking. His right half was a solid, deep black with a yellow eye, and his left was ginger with white socks and a green eye.

"The password is 'long-division'" said Beezle. "What do we have tae declare?" he said to himself, looking over their group. "Well, Jekyllyde, we have that collar that Napoleon wanted, and we have someone tae be trained. Alright, me lad?"

Jekyllyde nodded. "That's all good. You can pass."

"Thank ye kindly," Beezle said, walking past the split Cat. The others followed him deeper into the sewer system. Every now and then, one of the Cats would see someone they knew and call out a greeting.

"Hey, Stoker! How's it going?" Demeter called to a black Cat with long fangs.

"It is going vell, _frauleine," _Stoker called back before going back to biting the head off of a rat.

"Might I say that you look lovely today, Beruthiel," Mephisto said, bending over a white Queen's paw. She fixed him with a frosty glare and moved on without saying anything.

Eventually, they reached the chambers of the Napoleon of Crime.

As they entered the pipe housing the Godfather with a tail, Mungojerrie was struck by the opulence of the chamber. Stolen carpets covered the planks of the floor. Artistic photographs of Cats hung from the walls. At the end of the room, a large, ginger Cat- the Hidden Paw himself- lounged on one of the most expensive cat-beds money could buy, but hadn't in this case.

Napoleon turned his yellow eyes towards them, as his head swayed slightly from side to side, as though he was perpetually scanning his surroundings for danger. Standing, he addressed them.

"So, yer back?" he asked in his deep voice, unmarred by its strong Cockney accent. "'Ow'd it go, then? Did ya get the collar?"

Demeter gulped in her throat and stepped forward, pushing a red Queen out of her way. "Err, yes, sir. We got it." She held the collar with its interesting, jeweled spikes out to Napoleon.

The Hidden Paw took the thing and examined it. "Well, ya 'ave my thanks," he said. "And now, I have a question to ask."

"Yes, sir?" asked Demeter nervously. She was completely unprepared for what happened next.

Sinking to one knee, the Hidden Paw held up the collar to her. Mungojerrie stifled a gasp as he guessed what he was about to witness.

"Demetah," Napoleon said, "would ya do me the honor o' becomin' my mate?"

Demeter's eyes flicked back and forth. Mungojerrie followed their gaze to see the red Queen with elliptical spots from before. She was frowning behind Napoleon's back and shaking her head at Demeter. The black-and-gold Queen gulped again, but made a different decision.

"Yes, Napoleon, I will," she said, taking the collar and clasping it around her neck.

…

**AN: Like I said, the beginning of the end. Anyway, that's how Mungojerrie started working for Macavity, and how Demeter became his (Macavity's) mate.**

**Please review.**

**-Predator.**


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